


(Call It) Whatever You May

by RadiatorfromSpace



Series: DD/l Things [1]
Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Age Play, Anal, Anal Fingering, AnxietyDisorder!Loki, Babyboysub!Loki, Coddling, D/s terms are explained at end of Chapter One, Daddy Dom/little, Daddy Kink, Daddy Kink and D/s are IN the sex scenes - Freeform, DaddyDom!Thor, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Edging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father/son Incest Roleplay, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Fluff Comfort DD/l and Daddy Kink are OUTSIDE of the sex scenes, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Little!Loki, M/M, Mental Illness, Not kidding, Oral, Parent/child Incest Roleplay, PsychologicallySophisticated!Thor, Regression, Rimming, Roleplay, Romance, Self-Acceptance Issues, Sexual Roleplay, Some Chapters are NSFW, Spanking, Stepfather/teenage stepson Roleplay with Pre-Negotiated Dub-con Elements, Underage Roleplay, Virginity Loss Kink, bottle feeding, dd/l, in the last chapter, they are both adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4970596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadiatorfromSpace/pseuds/RadiatorfromSpace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki’s main means of decompressing are his kinky “scenes” with Thor, his Daddy Dom of four months. Tonight Loki goes straight from the office to Thor’s apartment, but this time his “Daddy” offers him more than casual, kinky fun: a long weekend spent basking in Thor’s care and attention, whether Loki wants to simply spend vanilla time together or submit to his and his Daddy's desires.</p><p>It’s not your typical “first date” is it?</p><p>Read the tags and definitions. You’ve read Daddy Kink Thorki before, but possibly not Daddy Kink D/s Thorki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Some Kind of Witchcraft is What I’d Say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sexualthorientation (sexyscholar)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexyscholar/gifts).



> DEFINITIONS ARE IN THE NOTES AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER.
> 
>  **Please note,**  
>  _1) I wrote Loki w/ an anxiety disorder._  
>  2) Working out deep psychological issues is **not** pertinent to Daddy/little D/s.  
>  3) Thor and Loki have continually refined their D/s relationship through discussions as equals. They know each other and both are comfortable “safe-wording out” if/when something is wrong.  
> 4) **Lastly,** this story occurs at a time when Loki needs comfort, so  Daddy Kink and Domination/submission Kink are present _in the sex scenes_ , whereas emotional needs are addressed through nonsexual, comfort- and nurturing-oriented DD/l care _outside_ of the sex scenes.
> 
> A gift for Sexualthorientation because she is so sweet, hilarious, a BRILLIANT writer, and incorrigible. ;3 Don't ever change!
> 
>  
> 
> _Thanks to[Umakoo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/umakoo/pseuds/umakoo) for beta-reading!_

Call it whatever you may  
Some kind of witchcraft is what I’d say  
I wouldn’t dare to fall in love  
I swear you tricked me to feel this way  
\--“Witchcraft” by The Royalty

Loki takes the stairs in threes up to the backdoor of Thor’s apartment; he’s been needing tonight for days—a minor conflict at work somehow exploded into a six-way email conversation (plus three separate phone calls) between colleagues and respective bosses, plus the dreaded Head of Human Resources. Then the boss of Loki’s entire department had sent out an ambiguous email suggesting they meet to discuss “what transpired last Friday” in person.  
  
It was phrased as a suggestion. Translation: It was a demand.  
  
The only ambiguity Loki handles well is the kind he doles out. Just yesterday he canceled his annual physical exam; he doesn’t want to hear his General Practitioner (GP) say _shit_ about his blood pressure.  
  
His skin is crawling with it. He had to double his anti-anxiety medication just to sleep at all since the seemingly innocuous work incident began. But Thor will make him feel safe; _Daddy_ will make it better with his big, heavy arms and sweet, rumbling voice. Thor will take control and vanquish all the nervous chatter in Loki’s head and give him calm—and at least one fantastic orgasm.  
  
_Daddy._ Loki whines involuntarily at just the name as he knocks on the door. Stupid Thor being stupidly good at the whole “Daddy” business just from babysitting his younger brother Baldr. Thor plays “Daddy” like a professional despite being 30 and childless. Like it was simply intuitive for him, _fuck._  
  
Soon he hears footsteps. This close to comfort and Loki’s eyes begin to sting.  
  
If anyone could see him now, or what he is about to willingly, eagerly do with Thor, he would buy a gun.  
  
The door opens and there is Thor, standing tall, smiling, and looking gorgeous in just a tight gray shirt and jeans. His smile drops when he sees Loki's face.  
  
“One second,” Loki mutters as he brushes past him. He fishes his wallet and keys out of the pockets of his neatly pressed pants and places them on a bookshelf. On his phone, he selects the file he wants, and hands it to Thor without looking at him.  
  
“Read this to me at a slow, even pace in your best ‘soothing Daddy’ voice,” he instructs as he begins removing his black leather shoes and undoing the buttons on his sleeve cuffs. His stomach feels like a solid block and his chest is tight.  
  
“But don’t modify the script. I won’t hear a single ‘baby’, ‘little boy’, or ‘baby boy’.”  
  
“Seems doable,” Thor replies as he reads over the script.  
  
“I didn’t think you’d have a problem with this,” Loki says, rolling his eyes.  
  
Thor waits until Loki is as comfortable as he is going to be; hyperventilating and tense from head to toe even as he sits cross-legged on a cushion on the floor of what normally feels like a safe space. Thor sits in front of him in the same position, close enough so their kneecaps touch. He holds the phone at a good height for reading and places his free hand against the small of Loki’s back.  
  
“Lean into me now,” Thor instructs, applying gentle pressure when Loki does not immediately yield. Thor guides him so their foreheads are resting comfortably against each other’s, all the better to bask in Thor’s rich, resonant voice.  
  
He’s very good at this, Loki thinks with some small amount of glee. Thor has a beautiful voice—and an even better “Daddy voice”, one that causes him to _melt_ everywhere except his cock.  
  
Loki has never taken particularly well to breathing exercises or solo meditation. But a _voice_ —a deep, soothing voice _leading him_ through a guided meditation—that he will eat right up. Being the one in control is comforting and helps him prevent a lot of anxiety, but to bring him back down from when he’s very anxious, nothing is more pleasurably effective as submitting to someone who is as caring as he is commanding. And sexy. _Thor._  
  
The first reading is not enough to relax him, so when Thor finishes the script, Loki squeezes Thor’s thigh three times to signal him to continue. Thor reads the script a little more slowly each time, his voice a little deeper with each repetition, but the weight of his hand on Loki’s shoulder is resolute, anchoring him to earth.  
  
By the time Thor finishes the fourth reading, Loki’s skin is no longer crawling and his breathing is almost slow. _Almost_ safe and somewhat tense, yet calm. Accurate, if not logical. Perhaps it’s just the residual adrenaline slower to catch up.  
  
“I’ve never seen you this anxious before,” Thor comments mildly.  
  
Loki snorts. “I’m glad you didn’t know me in high school. ‘Anal retentive’ was my _default_ setting.”  
  
“Did therapy help?”  
  
“To a limited degree. I think most of my improvement came from developing actual self-confidence in college. I went from a habitually nervous wreck to _almost calm_.” Loki waggles his eyebrows to underscore the pathetic nature of that personal victory and Thor chuckles.  
  
Loki sighs. “This is _stupid_. It’s just a meeting between professionals. They just want to pin down what happened and prevent repeats.”  
  
“Everyone has their own problems,” Thor offers.  
  
“I know. But it’s just so _**fucking**_ stupid,” Loki mutters as he scrubs his face. “That things like this can still fuck me up this much. It’s like suddenly being back in high school…”  
  
“Makes you grateful for the way you are now most days.”  
  
“Yeah…” Loki sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “Still makes me feel like an idiot.”  
  
“I’m afraid you’re only an _amateur_ idiot and I must advise you keep your day job,” Thor says with a winsome smile. Damn him.  
  
Loki snorts, Thor chuckles; Loki gives him what is perhaps his first genuine smile in days and Thor grins broadly back at him.  
  
“Want to cuddle?” Thor asks. Loki lets him wrap his arms around him and pulls Thor sideways onto the floor with him. Thor huffs in consternation at lounging against a cold tile floor instead of the king-size bed just a few feet away, but his grumbling dwindles as they snuggle up. As the blond hairs tickle Loki’s nose, he feels the nervous tension fade from his muscles and the tightness in his chest disappears.  
  
“It’s _comfy_ …” Loki croons, savoring both the cold, hard floor and the warm, pliant body with which he is entwined.  
  
“You’re so weird,” Thor chuckles.  
  
Loki pushes himself up onto his hands to properly glare down at him, a mock-serious expression on his face.  
  
Thor rolls his eyes. “As _always,_ I like it.”  
  
“Yeah, you stop that doubt-train before it starts, you dick…” Loki pinches him playfully and lies back down.  
  
“I’ve liked your weirdness from the day we met, you know that.”  
  
_“What?_ I wasn’t weird when we met!”  
  
“True, but I could tell. ‘This guy’s going to surprise me’ – my first thought upon seeing you, honest to God,” Thor teases as he squeezes Loki.  
  
“I like surprises.”  
  
Loki snorts. “Lucky you.”  
  
They have a nice cuddle there on the floor, but in time Loki grows restless. Tonight could be extra fun; Thor texted him to let him know the couple in the apartment above them was on vacation and the one below is now vacant; they can make as much noise as they want. He tries to entice Thor with salacious ideas of what they might do together tonight, but Thor is content where he is and makes no sign of moving, which is a bit unusual for him.  
  
Loki lightly presses his fingertips to the bottoms of Thor’s bulging pectoral muscles. He waits a long moment, savoring the peace and the fact that Thor has lowered his guard. Then he starts _pinging_ Thor’s cleavage, flicking his fingers against the nipples and the cleft, faster and harder the more Thor tries to ignore it.  
  
“How is business, Mr. Airline Ticket Sales?” Loki teases, pinging away. “How is working remotely? How are the toothless, Texan families wanting a taste of real European culture for the first time in their lives? How’s the home gym? Did your GP call you back about your lipid panel yet?”  
  
“Oh my god,” Thor groans. Loki smirks as Thor shifts to smother him under his bodyweight. Loki keeps flicking him until his hands are flattened along with the rest of him under the prodigious weight, until Thor is literally lying fully on top of him.  
  
_“Oof_ … Yum!”  
  
~  
  
It’s kind of complicated. They normally do scenes in which they role play some variation on the basic Authoritative Father-Figure dominates Submissive Younger-Guy scenario. But some of their scenes are a different kind of role play, not simply stepping into a shallow role for a little while but accessing personas manifesting some deeply personal aspects of themselves. Loki cannot pinpoint when it started, but increasingly he and Thor have been foregoing their scenario role plays in favor of Thor simply playing affectionate, nurturing, and supportive “Daddy” to Loki’s nervous and needy “babyboy” persona. It’s confusing and a bit frightening to Loki because it involves something like regression on his part on top of a more intimate level of submission to Thor, but on the other hand these interactions are sweet and touching in a way their erotic scenario role plays aren’t. After they discussed this development, Loki learned Thor apparently finds them as profoundly rewarding and comforting as he does. Thor has had _relationships_ with men who identify as “littles” before, so of course he would be comfortable with it… But Loki would still feel humiliated about the “little babyboy” persona thing if he couldn’t write it off as just, um, as merely…  
  
Anyway, tonight, they’re doing a scenario role play.  
  
“All right, have we forgotten anything?” Thor asks. “How do you feel about starting?”  
  
“I’m ready,” Loki replies as he walks over to the back door to the stairwell. He faces the door, resting his forehead against it and running over the scenario in his head. He pushes the world away and finds his way into his character for the scene: seventeen, rebellious, and going to be free from his rigid, authoritarian Stepfather’s control in five months when he moves across the country for college. But he’s not as keen to escape his Stepfather’s iron fist as he likes to pretend…  
  
He bites his lip as he feels his palms begin to grow sweaty, as a pleasant, thrumming tension starts to seep into his muscles. He is about to be manhandled and taken by a massive wall of brutish, angry, and strangely possessive Stepfather he can’t even fathom why his mother likes. His Stepfather, _Thor,_ is a jerkwad, a callous, burly man with thick arms and meaty thighs, whose eyes follow Loki’s ass even as he berates him for wearing pants so tight they might as well be a neon sign. An intimidating, imposing man with thick fingers all but shattering his coffee mug on workday mornings when he spies the hickeys on Loki’s neck. A stubborn, grunting bull of a man used to giving orders and easily enraged by insubordination. An oaf who hypocritically claims to hate Loki’s long hair and yet tousles it whenever it’s freshly wet from the shower, his fingers catching in sought-after snarls, lingering with the allure of the control this grip could afford him if he only closed his fist.  
  
Loki would love to return the gesture, get his fingers caught up in his Stepfather’s long, golden locks. If only insubordination wasn’t just as fun as obedience.  
  
But no, his Stepfather is too chicken to act upon what’s been so plainly brewing between them for the past year.  
  
The feeling of his Stepfather’s breath puffing against the back of his neck draws Loki back to the present.  
  
“Thor?” he asks, without turning from the door.  
  
He feels his Stepfather’s hand on his collarbones, his ring and little fingers slipping underneath the neck of Loki’s shirt. He presses Loki against the door. “What did I tell you to call me?” he asks.  
  
“Something you’re not,” Loki grunts as he is pressed harder into the door.  
  
“Really? Paying your bills, keeping a roof over your head, teaching you how to be a man. Sounds like a daddy to me,” Thor says, his words muffled by Loki’s hair.  
  
“I know who my Daddy is and I love him. I would do _anything_ for my real Daddy,” Loki taunts, his glee as much as his youthful recklessness inspiring him to rub his ass _just a little_ against his Stepfather.  
  
Thor growls, but his anger at being denied is dampened by the invitation of Loki’s body and his grip tightens slightly. “Huh, I guess you would,” Thor says, pushing his hips forward to meet him. “Wonder what he did to make you so _devoted_. Would you let him do anything _to_ you?” His free hand slips down Loki’s belly, slipping under the waistband of his pants. When he struggles, Thor only presses him harder against the door, until he is trapped between two unyielding surfaces.  
  
_**“Mom?!”**_ Loki shouts, adrenaline surging through his veins. He never thought Thor would really—  
  
Thor chuckles darkly, the sound coming right beside his ear. “Your mother isn’t here, won’t be back from her conference until Sunday.”  
  
Loki’s stomach flips.  
  
“Happy Friday.”  
  
Loki tries to pull away, but Thor catches both his wrists in his hand. “Now let’s just see, _son,”_ Thor laughs as he presses his free hand back down into Loki’s pants. Thor hums as his fingers grasp his erection.  
  
“Someone likes Daddy more than he lets on.” The hand on Loki’s cock tightens and begins to stroke. “And here I was, thinking you liked teasing me with what I couldn’t have: prancing around in those tight clothes, showing off the marks those boys left on you; you were _theirs_. But now I see you were just goading me, hoping my self-control would snap.”  
  
Thor gives his cock a pleasant squeeze, his hand so hot Loki bucks his hips with a soft whine.  
  
“Well, my control hasn’t snapped, son,” Thor murmurs into his ear. “You’re not a whore for those boys. For the next two days, you’re just a whore for Daddy.”  
  
His Stepfather withdraws his hand and pins him against the door with his shoulder as he reaches around to unfasten his pants. They fall to his ankles, followed by his boxers, and then Thor only releases him to yank his shirt off. He flips Loki around to face him and crowds him against the door, their foreheads touching.  
  
“You’re going to be a really good boy for me, aren’t you?” Thor taunts, one hand trailing near Loki’s hard, vulnerable cock. Resistance be damned; Loki nods promptly.  
  
“Good boy,” Thor says encouragingly, “But we’ll have to see just how good you’ll be for me, hmm?”  
  
Thor takes his hands and leads him farther into the room, until Loki’s toes are brushing against the cushion from earlier that ‘just happens’ to be right where his Stepfather wants him. He places his hand on his shoulder, pressing downward with such force Loki bends his knees instinctively before he can think. Shivering, Loki kneels on the cushion, bringing his eyes right to the level of the large bulge straining against the fabric of Thor’s pants.  
  
“Show me what a good, devoted son you can be, now,” Thor says as he unzips and pulls forth his erection from the folds of his clothing. “Worship my cock, _son.”_  
  
Loki stares at it, the tip around the slit is shiny with the beginnings of precome, and the rest of it is heavy with blood, thick, and uncut. He doesn’t believe he can fit the whole thing inside even if he deepthroats, which, naturally, is what Thor forces him to do the second he opens his mouth.  
  
Loki gags on it, his throat muscles clenching reflexively around the thick head thrust past his tonsils as his eyes roll from the sudden swap of oxygen for nausea. Because his Stepfather is such a kind, gentle soul, he’s also gripping Loki around the neck, his thumb resting just above his Adam’s apple. A handhold and a threat in one, how quaint.  
  
Loki groans, his skin tingling and his cock rock-hard— _fucking asshole,_ he thinks.  
  
_Don’t ever change..._  
  
Thor pulls back enough to let him breathe and thrusts more shallowly a few times until he is content to let Loki do as he ordered. Thor keeps one hand around Loki’s neck as he begins to apply his tongue, lips, and fingers to the big dick’s proportional namesake. Loki hopes if he suckles and licks well enough, Thor will be appeased and let him take breaks to lick the underside and kiss the head, which he does. From the little sounds his Stepfather is making, he is doing well, and the circumstance notwithstanding, those little sounds cause flutters in Loki’s belly.  
  
He glances up, sees how his Stepfather’s stormy face has softened—with darkening eyes, heavy lids, parted lips, from face-fucking his stepson. Loki moans, his heart jumping.  
  
He takes it in his mouth again and his cheeks hollow out under the sheer amount of suction he applies to the head. Thor groans loudly as Loki pushes the foreskin back behind the cock head with his just his tongue, then sucks with enough force to pull the skin right back over again. He bobs his head, fighting against insubordination in favor of _playing_ at devotion, taking rising satisfaction in watching Thor’s blue irises slowly disappear behind his pupils.  
  
He bristles before he feels it, seeing Thor’s free hand reach around the back of Loki’s head to grab his hair. But he seems content with the visual and the latent threat rather than actually using it for control for now, so Loki makes certain to bob his head faster, taking as much cock inside as he can.  
  
The hand on his neck tightens slightly and Thor pulls out. As Loki gasps and gulps, his Stepfather guides the sticky, weeping tip of his cock and smears precome and spit all over his face until he’s a mess.  
  
Loki wonders if he’s going to make him swallow his cum, too, but it is not to be. Thor pulls away and hauls him up to kiss him, his arms cinching around the small of Loki’s back. The only struggle Loki puts up is internal; he can’t decide if he wants to make his asshole Stepfather angrier or taste the thrill of surrender. His stomach flutters wildly as his lips yield to Thor’s, complicit in being consumed, letting his Stepfather shove his tongue as deep inside him as he wants.  
  
Thor tosses him onto the bed and quickly manhandles him onto his elbows and knees on the mattress, straddling the backs of Loki’s calves and manacling his wrists so he can gain no leverage. Loki whimpers when he hears the sound of a bottle cap opening and soon a warm, slick finger is pressing at his hole. Loki can’t decide if he’s more turned on or frightened that this awful brute has finally done it, but once he’s breached, it feels _hot_ inside, almost burning and he gasps for air as the muscles yield to the intrusion. Almost too soon, he is sucking air back into his lungs, stretching them full as one finger becomes two, then three, rocking back and forth into him, slicking him, making him ready to be what his Stepfather wants.  
  
Thor manhandles Loki onto his back, quickly pinning his thin wrists above his head and tilting his pelvis upward. Thor bears down on him, his burning blue eyes locked on Loki’s, as he takes his big, slick cock in hand and guides it into the puffy, swollen hole. Loki bites his lip, trying to resist, but once Thor gets deep enough, he can’t anymore: his eyes roll up, he flushes all over, and his mouth opens wide in an involuntary, from-the-bottom-of-his-lungs sigh. He  loves getting fucked.  
  
Thor groans as he slowly pulls back out and Loki’s eyes open to watch the brute on top of him. Burly. Mean and larger than life, lined with muscle after muscle Loki can never hope to overpower. Fucking him. Making him take it.  
  
Thor presses back in and Loki releases a sweet, rapturous sigh. He hasn’t even honed in on his prostate yet—there’s just something about him being inside, so big and _making_ him… Thor pulls out until just the head is within Loki’s hole and shoves back in to the hilt. Loki swears aloud, does it again but wordlessly when Thor fucks in once more.  
  
“Knew you’d be loud for me, just the way Daddy likes,” Thor rumbles, loosening his hold on Loki’s wrists just slightly. Loki tilts his chin up, lips parted, asking for a kiss.  
  
“Oh, baby _wants_ his Daddy now? Feeling a little more dutiful now that Daddy’s made you feel so nice?” Thor taunts with the smirk of a lifelong bully plastered on his face. “Call me ‘daddy’.”  
  
Loki doesn’t, but his Stepfather is too heady from his victory to care, and he leans down to kiss him anyway. His lips are lovely and warm but insistent upon his mouth and Loki complies with whatever pace and amount of tongue Thor wants, moaning and gasping into him as he resumes thrusting into his hole. There is so much lube Thor’s cock is displacing from inside, he hears an embarrassing squelching sound each time Thor fully submerges his dick. Thor keeps fucking him, at once pinning and kissing him, as he gradually builds up speed. Loki’s knees are slowly brought closer to his ears until his Stepfather is fucking _downward_ into him, trapping him, slamming him down into the mattress.  
  
Thor pulls out and manhandles him onto his hands and knees, presses a firm hand down onto the small of Loki’s back to make him present his ass at the most convenient angle. Now they are facing the full-length mirror beside the bed: Loki cannot escape the sight or feeling of his Stepfather and Thor won’t lose a shred of Loki’s responses. It’s all his.  
  
His mouth lolling open, Loki instinctively spreads his legs wider to allow him deeper access. Thor accepts this act of submission and starts cramming his cock back inside. And, _oh_ , he loved what they were doing before but there’s something about this position that makes him ecstatic. Thor slams his hips _into_ his ass with each powerful thrust, an unending succession of collisions that makes his flesh shake, vibrations reaching all the way to his belly and shaking everything that can feel good inside.  
  
“Your father’s long gone, but there’s another daddy right here paying you all this attention, giving you some love,” his Stepfather growls as his cock sends shockwaves of pleasure through Loki’s body. “Call me ‘daddy’, baby.” He takes Loki’s wrists and holds them firmly against the small of his back. Now Loki can’t even lean away, it’s physically impossible for him to be anything other than impaled on his Stepfather’s cock.  
  
But before Loki even has a chance to comply, Thor begins ramming into him, ripping cries from him, slamming him so hard Loki can’t fit his mouth around the word.  
  
Thor reaches around and presses his index and middle finger against Loki’s mouth. “Suck,” he orders. Loki promptly takes the digits in his mouth and sucks them hard and deep, relishing how big and filling they feel. He looks up at their reflection in the mirror and the sight makes his eyes glaze and his body turn to warm fuzzies and blitzes of pleasure.  
  
He stares dazedly at his Stepfather, expression stormy and his heavy gaze unshakable as he fucks into him on the bed. All of that muscle rhythmically straining as he takes him, his shoulders so broad when the pale body beneath him seems so little. Loki sees the flushing cheeks, the curl of his lips as he moans above him, louder whenever Loki squeezes his cock inside. His Stepfather has wanted him a long time and now Loki cannot break free. Finally Thor is taking what he wants, making Loki accept his dick, demanding that Loki like it as he shoves his thick, heavy cock as deep as can be inside him. It sends a ripple of pleasure through his body and this, too, belongs to Thor; even the choice to like it is no longer Loki’s own.  
  
Thor’s fingers come out with a ‘pop’, leaving Loki mewling from the loss.  
  
“Aw, what’s wrong, baby?” his Stepfather taunts, “You like being stuffed from both ends? You want some more?” Thor gives his ass a sharp slap and firmly kneads the stinging flesh. “You know what to do, _baby.”_  
  
Loki shivers, eyeing Thor in the mirror. He’s such a big brute, he could give him _much_ more.  
  
_“Daddy,”_ he whines, lowering his head. “Daddy, please…”  
  
Thor must like that word; he moans and his pace quickens, but not enough.  
  
“Ask nicely for my cock and I will consider it.”  
  
Loki blushes bright red— _ooh,_ what a bully!  
  
“Daddy, will you please stuff me with your cock?”  
  
He catches the glint in Thor’s eye in the mirror. “You don’t sound convincing, _son_ …”  
  
“Please give it to me, Daddy, I need it, I need your cock and your cum all deep inside me!” Loki pleads.  
  
“Good boy.”  
  
_“Fuck—“_ Loki’s gasp turns into a shout as he is roughly thrust forward by a powerful slam of Thor’s hips. Thor starts banging him, making his eyes roll as he pummels his sweet spot with his cock. He can’t even brace with Thor holding his arms behind his back; he is powerless, vulnerable, and completely open to him. He has no words left as Thor keeps slamming into him, his reply to each pounding only a plaintive, wordless cry that seems to spur Thor on as he towers over him, bending forward to grip him by the back of the neck for more control.  
  
That possessive gesture is just about doing it for him so Loki bites the duvet between his teeth to stifle his rising moans. He’s close, he can see the finish line, he’s so close—  
  
“Your ass is so tight, you’re going to wring the cum right out of me. You want Daddy to make your ass all sloppy with his cum? You want Daddy to fill you up?”  
  
Loki screams into the duvet, his cum spurting from his cock as his ass cinches tighter around Thor. Thor groans from the sudden squeeze, but he lets out a shout as he comes, thrusting balls-deep as it breaks over him. He releases Loki’s arms as he rests his weight against his back, following as he slumps down into the mattress. Loki’s small, pleased sounds from the beginnings of his afterglow are echoed by Thor as the last of his cum is milked from his cock.  
  
“Ah, _fuck,_ Loki,” Thor pants as he slowly withdraws. He carefully removes the condom and leans over to drop it in the waste bin at the foot of the bed before tugging Loki close. They rest like that for a while, coming back down, catching their breaths as languor overtakes them.  
  
But when Thor rolls Loki over to face him, the expression on his face tells Loki which version of ‘Daddy’ he’s about to get; it sends both a pleasant shiver and a spark of energy through him. Giddy and giggling like a kid, he makes as if to wriggle away.  
  
“No, no,” Thor admonishes gently. “Let Daddy kiss you, sweetie.”  
  
_Fuck,_ Thor's Daddy Voice—it turns Loki's insides to warm honey. Not honey warmed in a microwave, but _properly_ : in a pot over a gas stove, with a pat of French butter mixed in.  
  
Loki immediately gives up his play-fight and purrs as Thor peppers his face with soft kisses.  
  
“How is your throat feeling, baby? Would you like Daddy to get you some honey for it?” Thor offers as he cuddles him up. He alternates between giving light, brief tickles and plenty of kisses. He praises Loki for being such a good sub, his good babyboy, and this would enhance Loki’s good mood, were it not for the sudden, strange sensation of coldness prickling at his palms and spreading.  
  
All too soon the scene will be over and he will go back home. There, all he will have to look forward to are sleepless nights and the return of his anxiety, his worry, his self-doubt; the overwhelming feeling of smallness and fragility. He cannot take his Daddy with him. Suddenly hyperaware of the shit that will ensue upon his departure, his chest grows tight again, extinguishing the pleasantness of their scene and freezing all that honey solid.  
  
~  
  
Thoroughly pleased and overflowing with warmth for his babyboy, Thor is not quite done seeing to his sweetie—not by a long shot if he has his way—when he notices the change in him. Thor pulls back to check him over, concerned and searching his face after Loki stops responding.  
  
The muscles in Loki’s jaw clench and Thor instinctively reaches out to soothe the distress he sees there, to smooth away the tension and tuck him against his chest, whether that ‘him’ is Loki the 27 year old graphic artist working in advertizing or Loki’s “little self” he began revealing a couple months ago. But when his fingers touch his fair skin, Loki rolls to the other side of the bed and reaches for his pants.  
  
“Is something on your mind?” Thor asks conversationally.  
  
“Always,” Loki replies curtly, his eyes and fingers devoted to buttons and zippers.  
  
“You’re normally relaxed afterward…”  
  
“Well, I’m not today,” Loki scoffs.  
  
“Have you had time to see Amora or Helblindi recently?” he tries again. He learned months ago the only friends Loki keeps are very close ones, although from what Loki has told him, Thor still struggles to picture Amora _smiling._  
  
Loki turns fully away from him as he dons his work shirt.  
  
“So your anxiety is back already?”  
  
Thor sees the very beginnings of a shudder before Loki suppresses it; the sight makes Thor’s heart hurt. _Oh, sweetie…_  
  
Thor rises and tugs on his boxers before going to him. _“Hey,”_ he says softly as he tries to sidle into Loki’s field of vision. But Loki turns aside to grab his watch off the dresser, and then his coat from a chair when Thor catches up with him again.  
  
Loki is a master at this but his winces are growing more pained the longer this goes on. When Thor lays his hands on him, the sheer rigidness in Loki makes him angry. He pulls Loki into his arms, bringing him flush against his chest so their foreheads touch. _“Hey,”_ he tries again.  
  
Unlike Loki’s relationship with his little-self, Thor fully accepts that he’s a “Daddy”; it’s a mindset and a way of life of needing to care for, nurture, and protect someone special. And Loki is indeed special.  
  
Now Loki is completely rigid partly because of him, yet Thor does not let go. He likes to think he knows him well enough by now, but he wishes he would just ask for help instead of doing _this._ It’s like he thinks care comes with a heaping ladleful of judgment.  
  
~  
  
Thor asking him to be emotionally vulnerable outside of a scene. It’s a distressing thought, but so shortly after a scene, Loki can’t think ‘Thor’ without thinking _‘Daddy’_ and that damned safety he feels in _his Daddy’s_ arms is too dangerously appealing right now. It’s no longer simply the tight, certain strength of Thor’s arms around him, it is the layers of associative meaning from the four months they have been enjoying their kinks together. His embrace is perfect now, making it so hard to hide and yet Loki cannot afford to let himself be found. He wants to shut Thor out, but he _wishes_ Thor would push his way in and make him.  
  
But they are no longer in a scene; what they do is real now, their actions suddenly meaningful. Alluring and terrifying.  
  
Loki is more than this “little” weakness: he is capable, he is whole, and he will not have Thor’s pity. If he can just wait it out another twenty minutes, this wrenching impulse to curl up in Thor’s arms and never, ever leave will pass. And he can go home brittle but saved from being the cause of someone’s disappointment.  
  
It would be unspeakably easier if Thor hadn’t wrapped his stupid arms around him.  
  
“Loki, you’re clearly upset. I can’t let you drive like this,” Thor says firmly. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, I want to hear it. Are you worried you’ll be fired?”  
  
“The event itself wouldn’t merit termination! But these _fools_ are all behaving—“  
  
“And how have you been handling that at home?”  
  
Loki stiffens, but the longer he is silent, the higher Thor’s hand creeps towards his hair. Then he’s petting him and teasing his scalp with his nails just the way—god _damn_ him. A cascade of lovely shivers; he begins to melt against his will.  
  
“How has your insomnia been since the thing at work?” Thor asks.  
  
“The worst it’s been in years. Even with full doses of Klonopin and double doses of melatonin, my sleep is still fucked…”  
  
He sees the hint of the frown Thor is trying to conceal. After the first time Loki admitted to using Klonopin, the oaf had looked it up and discovered how addictive its entire class of drug was. Thor didn’t stop giving him worried looks and Dad-lectures for weeks—but what was the surprise there?  
  
“Are you eating?”  
  
“I’m _vomiting,”_ Loki offers cheerfully.  
  
Now Thor’s lips turn downward and his brow furrows. The hand teasing Loki’s scalp descends to massage his neck as he thinks, although what the hell he thinks he can do is beyond Loki.  
  
“We both have Monday off,” Thor says slowly, “You could spend the weekend here and we could try something freeform.”  
  
Loki tries to shove Thor away. _**“No**_. I am not doing a 24/7 D/s relationship. You will _never_ own me.”  
  
“That was not my intent! I was just thinking we could…try something where when you need a Daddy, I can already be there to do that.” Thor’s thumb ghosts over his skin and he adds softly, “Whenever.”  
  
“I am _not_ a little!” Loki hisses. Thor wisely keeps his mouth shut, although it’s plain as day how hard he’s working to maintain his silence. Loki elects to ignore this.  
  
He looks him over warily. “You want to try living together, but not as a purely D/s arrangement?”  
  
Thor smiles a little sheepishly, a light blush coloring his cheeks. “Think of it as a little trip: you get to relax at my apartment, a Daddy to care for you when you want it, we can spend time together however we feel comfortable…”  
  
“And if at the end of the weekend I don’t like it, then what? We can discuss returning to casual scenes?”  
  
Thor winces. He squeezes Loki in a seemingly meaningful way. “If you found you weren’t interested, I don’t think we could do scenes anymore.”  
  
Oh.  
  
Their relationship _has_ blossomed into a genuine if incredibly flirty friendship, as all the texting and calls made apparent…  
  
But for the same reason he is skittish about making his _scenes_ with Thor more than that, Loki has only ever consented to be play partners with Doms before; he has never had a romantic relationship with one.  
  
His heartbeat grows too loud in his head for him to hear his own thoughts. He swallows, eyes dropping to the slopes of Thor’s shoulders as he nervously fingers the freckles there.  
  
“Loki, I’m getting signals that maybe you want this, too. I want to be there for you.”  
  
That would make the emotional vulnerability real, not to mention amplify the temptation to give in to certain “little”-related longings. Not that he would ever admit it out loud.  
  
Yet the prospect of unlimited access to a Daddy’s heart boasted a persuasive appeal to the anxiety-riddled submissive.  
  
Loki swallows again, his skin flushing. “I’m uncertain I can flow in and out of my babyboy persona like that,” he admits quietly. No Dom is interested in a shitty sub.  
  
“It will be a little awkward at first for me, too. I won’t be comfortable dominating or disciplining you until we’re both comfortable. We can use ‘Daddy’ as a signal of consent: When you can’t bring yourself to call me ‘Daddy’, we’ll just spend time together being vanilla. Is that clear, baby?” Thor asks.  
  
Oh, and just _listen_ to him, already softening his tone and dropping pitch to that hypnotic, _Daddy_ -like rumble. Fuck.  
  
“But you have to be willing to give consent, sweetie. I need you to call me _‘Daddy.’”_  
  
Loki bites his lip, his own longing and the alluring, sweet tone of Thor’s voice pulling at his core. And ‘Daddy’—it’s the sexiest, most emotionally persuasive word in the English language.  
  
But it’s different now; he is surrendering something new and he quails at the prospect. He dearly wants Thor to persuade him, and he desperately hopes Thor does not know that.  
  
“It’s only one kind of agony or another,” Loki grits out. “You must have gathered by now I’m not the naturally _open_ sort…”  
  
“I know, I know, my babyboy,” Thor murmurs as he kisses Loki’s forehead. His lips press against one of his sweet spots, his ‘third eye’—that magical, touch-tender patch of sensitive skin between and just above his brows. Shivers and pleasurable shocks run down Loki’s insides at the contact. _Fuck!_  
  
“We can’t do this unless you can voice what you want.”  
  
“As if my frequent returns don’t make it painfully obvious,” Loki grumbles into Thor’s shoulder.  
  
“I need you to be able to say it,” Thor tells him. Loki whimpers as Thor’s lips gently press against the shell of his ear while his nose nuzzles into another sweet spot on his scalp. “Call me ‘Daddy’, honey.”  
  
Why did Thor have to know him so well...  
  
“Daddy can’t wait to make dinner for his babyboy and tuck him into bed tonight. Daddy has been wondering what kind of bedtime story you like,” Thor murmurs. “But he can’t tuck you in unless you consent.”  
  
He barely holds in his whine; this is the most humiliating sexy talk he has ever loved.  
  
Loki savors the sweet softness of Thor’s kisses on his brow. Thor, his Daddy. His could-be Daddy every day; he will read Loki bedtime stories and comfort him by covering his cheeks with slow, soft kisses if Loki only asks. And before he even needs to ask, too. His knees begin to feel weak.  
  
But Loki has no history of being _pleasing_ to others, or of admitting to things he’d prefer not to acknowledge about himself. If he’s not forthcoming or submissive enough, Thor might lose interest and the shame of being a disappointment, passed over… But then refusal means _alone_ with the perpetual worry in his head.  
  
His stomach lurching, he clutches Thor’s shoulders tightly, trying to—he doesn’t even know what.  
  
Loki buries his face in Thor’s neck, breathes deep the mixture of mild musk and faded cologne. Thor’s been wearing that same scent for Loki every time since he said it was his favorite. They would have their scenes with that enchanting mixture of Thor’s individual smell and this fragrance hanging in the air, stronger the closer Loki drew to his Daddy’s warmth. It would sink into his work clothes—Loki usually came straight from the office—and for days afterward the occasional whiffs he’d get working at his desk were almost a proxy for the easy warmth of Thor’s presence; the rich, resonant tone with which he called him _‘baby’_ during their post-coital cuddles; the sheer calm Loki felt whenever they stood in the same room; the complete serenity he knew only when locked in his Daddy’s arms.  
  
He could keep that feeling, or not.  
  
Loki’s knees begin shaking and his arms tighten around Thor.  
  
_“Daddy,”_ he whimpers into Thor’s shoulder. “Daddy, please take care of me…”  
  
_“Oh, sweetie!”_ Thor purrs as he squeezes him. “You’ve made Daddy so _happy_ , baby! Daddy is so proud of you.” He kisses Loki’s cheeks the way that leaves tingles spreading from his skin into his core. Loki leans into the kisses, tightening his grip, craving more.  
  
It is _sweet_ —too sweet, and all this loveliness of giving in is not enough to suppress the frisson of fear and shame racing down his spine. He is nearly melting under the combined sweet of his Daddy’s kisses and approval. But if anyone ever found out, ever saw—no, _god_ , no, he can’t shake the hair-raising feeling of being watched—Loki squirms in raw shame, breaking out of Thor’s hold.  
  
Positive Health Behaviors 0, Anxiety 1: Loki is fleeing Thor’s apartment with record speed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _D/s_ – Domination/submission—some people get off on power exchange. Dominant (power-holder, in-control person) / submissive (voluntarily gifts their power to the Dom for the scene). Involves TPE (total power exchange; the Dom has all, the sub has none except their safeword). Daddy Dom/little dynamics typically have a less severe power imbalance, but one you'd expect between caretakers and their charges.
> 
>  _Daddy Dom/little (boy/girl; abbreviated as DD/l)_ – a type of D/s dynamic that is typically gentler and more affectionate than the stereotypical image of the way Dominants and submissives interact (discard your mental image of the “whips-and-chains Dom” degrading and humiliating his sub, although bondage, degradation, and humiliation can all certainly be found in DD/l if both people enjoy it).
> 
>  _Daddy (Dom)_ – a type of Dominant whose “style” typically but not necessarily focuses on caretaking, nurturing, emotional support, guidance, and protection of his little, plus being the dominant participant in DD/l. The Daddy plays "Daddy" ( **not** "father") to his little.
> 
>  _Littles and Baby boys/baby girls_ – they are **not** the same thing. Baby boys/girls employ age play—age play is playing pretend (role playing) they are a younger age. By contrast, “littles” are adults who express their still-present inner-child self in their relationship w/ their Daddy Dom/Mommy Domme. Both littles and baby boys/girls employ some degree of age play, but for baby boys/girls it is purely role play. [But Thor and Loki still refer to Loki as “babyboy/baby/little/etc” which might be confusing.]
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I had to define this because the plot is about Loki coming to accept the fact that he is a “little” after previously identifying simply as having age play and D/s kinks.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _Age Play_ – a form of role playing in which one acts and/or treats another as if they are an age that is different from their chronological one. Age play is not necessarily sexual (like if Daddy!Thor reads Loki a bedtime story, etc). An _age player_ (someone who gets off on scenes involving age play) is not the same as a “little”.
> 
>  _Safeword_ – a pre-negotiated code word used to communicate distress and withdrawal of consent. Useful when “no” and “stop” are authentic aspects of role play.
> 
> radiatorfromspace.tumblr.com


	2. I Wouldn't Dare to Fall in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later on Friday night. The second attempt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you w/ all the validity of 3AM decision-making.

Loki sits in his kitchen in casual clothes, one hand bracing against his temple and the other clutching his phone. It is still Friday night, less than an hour since Loki couldn’t even go through with it, and the warm, easy calm of Thor’s presence is still vibrant—still painfully alluring—in his memory. So he swipes open his phone and read their texts, _again._  
  
In the beginning, their texts were polite and logistical. Four months later, their conversations are filled with personal details, slang, and inside jokes, and are often interrupted for phone calls because, well, _those_ stories were just too funny not to hear the other’s voice. After their scenes, they often lingered well past aftercare, talking and cuddling like two adults who _hadn’t_ just indulged themselves in a scorching scene replete with daddy issues. Last time, Thor wouldn’t let him leave to get to bed on time, and he pulled him back to bed and gave him a good, _vanilla_ fucking.  
  
He’s an idiot. He’s a fucking idiot who is an idiot for thinking he’s being an idiot. His anxiety says he isn’t an idiot, but it can never be reasoned with. His self-doubt says what one would expect about any statement. His shame about his _not_ -little-self is persuasive if somewhat irrational. So he’s simply an idiot for listening to them all.  
  
And yet he _does._  
  
He took one step towards breaking that pattern with Thor this evening; Thor who makes all three of these awful things go away and replaces them with comfort, calm, and sweetness.  
  
Loki swipes his index finger over the keys, revising yet again the apology text he wants to send. In the end, he scraps it; Thor needs no frills.  
  
_‘Hey, you still awake?’_  
  
**Thor Odinson** : _‘Yeah, what’s up? Are you okay?’_  
  
Loki bites his lip, revulsion and want churning in his belly, his thumb hovering dangerously over the call button.  
  
One decade is long enough.  
  
Loki forces his thumb down. The dialing icon. The generic ring soundbite. Thor answering immediately.  
  
The same soft _“Hey”_ Thor gave him back at the apartment.  
  
“You were thinking about making our casual thing more than that?” Loki asks shakily, because his insecure ass dearly wants to ask _other_ questions which means they’re too big to fit through his throat. He shuts his eyes tightly as he awaits the rejection.  
  
“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” Thor replies softly. “The whole you and your babyboy aspect.  
  
“I like you, Loki. You stick.”  
  
“Like a tack in your ass,” Loki deflects with a weak laugh. He hears Thor’s deep chuckle, imagines his lips curling upwards in the dark of his apartment.  
  
“It hurts to hear you sound so upset. Is there anything I can do for you?” Thor asks very gently.  
  
Loki is shit at tolerating ambiguity. Ambiguity and soft, caring voices dangerously similar to Thor's Daddy Voice.  
  
Loki tries to stifle it but it comes out as a sob anyway: _“Daddy…”_  
  
He hears sounds from the other end of the phone, as though Thor just stood up at the sound of distress in his voice. “Baby, what’s wrong? Do you want Daddy to come pick you up?”  
  
Loki nods against his phone until his brain catches up with him and, _“Yes, Daddy, **please.**_ I’m sorry…”  
  
“It’s okay, baby. Gimme your address, huh? …Thank you. GPS says it’ll take me—“  
  
_“Don’t make fun of me,”_ Loki begs. God, he wants to punch himself.  
  
“Baby. Loki, listen: I will _never_ do that. I promise you. Do you believe me?”  
  
Listen to him, sounding determined and serious; his energy and focus marshaled for his could-be babyboy.  
  
“How long will it take to get here?” Loki asks instead.  
  
“Twenty minutes. Do you believe me?”  
  
Loki swallows thickly, suddenly feeling a hollow in his stomach. “I’ll try.”  
  
“That means a lot to me. Try really hard for Daddy and I’ll be with you very soon.”  
  
“Number 28 on the third floor, I’ll leave the door unlocked. I might be hiding under the dining table.”  
  
~  
  
Well, he was right.  
  
“You like hide and seek?” Thor laughs as he lies down beside him beneath his dining table.  
  
Loki’s face is burning and hidden behind his hands, hidden doubly by the fact that his nose is hovering about one inch from the carpet. Thor is here—and the faded scent of his cologne makes Loki shiver—but he’s arrived to find Loki in this ludicrous position. Thor must be regretting this.  
  
“I’m sorry you found me like this,” Loki apologizes, albeit mostly to the carpet.  
  
“It’s fine, Loki. I’m here because I want to be.”  
  
Loki dares to look at him through the crack between his fingers. “But of course you want to. You’re a Daddy Dom; that’s what you do.”  
  
Thor winks at him. “True, but unlike _some_ people we know, I set boundaries to protect my well-being. I don’t go chasing upset babyboys right and left. I’m here because I really like you.”  
  
Loki stares at him through his fingers. Just the thought of ever trying to emulate Thor’s unabashed openness makes his stomach churn.  
  
“Why are you so cocky?” Loki grumbles.  
  
“’Cause there’s this really cute babyboy right here considering me for a Daddy,” Thor says with a winsome grin.  
  
Loki snorts, his gaze returning to the carpet. “I can’t do ‘babyboy’ when you’re giving me lines.”  
  
“It’s not a line,” Thor replies as he crosses his arms beneath his head, avoiding the bun into which his hair is tucked. “I’m ready whenever you are. It’s up to you.”  
  
Loki risks a glance at his face, but Thor’s eyes are closed. He is just lying there, patiently waiting in a tight blue shirt, darkwash jeans, a leather jacket, and his faded cologne.  
  
That cologne is calling him like a hyperbole of what Thor’s presence means to him.  
  
This would be so much easier if Thor would initiate.  
  
It didn’t make sense: here Thor was, happily stating his interest in no uncertain terms, and yet Loki’s perennial self-doubt was sitting like a weight on his back, still controlling him. Were some people simply programmed for delusional self-doubt?  
  
Loki moves slightly closer with as little jostling and sound as possible, as though if Thor suddenly opens his eyes Loki can pretend he hasn’t budged an inch. But this is even more embarrassing.  
  
Loki grimaces, holds a deep breath for a long moment, and slots himself into Thor’s side.  
  
_“There we go,”_ Thor croons as he wraps his arms around him. It makes Loki’s heart flutter but still he hides his face in Thor’s armpit. “There’s my babyboy. Daddy is so happy you came to him…” Strong flutters—it rips a mewl right out of him.  
  
Loki wants to burrow so deeply into Thor he can’t ever be made to leave. He also wants to punch him, _**hard,**_ for making him feel so vulnerable, and for making him crave this. But Thor is just shy of realizing his mistake and leaving him here on the floor, so instead Loki begins to sob.  
  
Thor rolls onto his side and tightens his hold on him. “My baby has had such a tough week,” Thor rumbles gently. “Daddy’s here now, it’s okay to cry…”  
  
Loki’s stomach clenches and his sobbing grows louder, not quieter—he is revealing himself to be too needy for even someone who practically gets off on caretaking. Thor is about to realize how pathetic he is and leave, but why must that happen now when Loki needs it this badly? He sobs out the years unmet _want_ into Thor’s chest, clenching fistfuls of his shirt as he makes sounds like a dying animal.  
  
He feels Thor’s hand cup the back of his head, tucking him more securely against him. “Just cry it out, baby, that’s it. Daddy’s staying right here, you have him all to yourself, there you go…”  
  
He can’t stand it anymore—Loki pushes himself up on his hands and bellows down at him, “If you’re going to leave my pathetic ass, just leave already! Do you _like_ driving in the knife?!”  
  
Thor’s reply is a wide-eyed stare.  
  
Thor tugs him back down on top of him. He wraps one arm securely around Loki’s waist and resumes stroking his hair with the other. “Shh, shh, _shhhh,_ it’s all right, sweetie, Daddy has you…”  
  
_Oh._  
  
After a few minutes, Loki’s eyes have dried and his shaking has stopped. He should be “little” now or, or— _something,_ but his awkwardness is glaring him in the face.  
  
“Thor, I’m—I apologize for my…my foolishness just now. Sometimes I—“  
  
“Sometimes we become emotionally invested in errors in our perceptions. I think you’d be a lot happier if you tested your perceptions by asking questions more often,” Thor states pleasantly.  
  
They both laugh and Thor keeps stroking him even after his heart rate has slowed. They have a nice, quiet cuddle beneath Loki’s dining table, Thor petting him until he melts, his hold never slackening.  
  
Thor kisses him between the brows, creating more heavenly sensations throughout his body, and Loki snuggles closer, nuzzling. Daddy; _his_ Daddy.  
  
“I love it when you kiss me there, Daddy,” he murmurs. God, it’s easy bliss when he’s not caught up in his baggage.  
  
“You ready to come home with your Daddy? Think you’ll enjoy a couple days of tender, loving care?”  
  
Loki’s heart rate quickens. Thor must sense it, for he begins mouthing at the tender spot between Loki’s brows again to soothe him. Loki shivers and moans a little as the pleasant sensations win out against the growing tension.  
  
“I’m not a little. You promise you won’t look down on me?” Loki asks, fisting his shirt tightly.  
  
“Loki,” Thor sighs, “I think you’re hurting yourself by not accepting this is part—“  
  
“I’m not a little!” Loki cries. “I’m not some defective, psychologically stunted _child_ living in an adult body!"  
  
Thor squeezes him tightly, insisting, _“No one is saying you are._ But what’s wrong with being little? Is there something wrong with me being a Daddy? That’s unusual, too, but you seem to be a fan. Aww, shh, baby…”  
  
He continues stroking his hair. “It doesn’t define who you are. But you also need to understand that I feel the same way about _little-you_ as you do about _Daddy-me_. Can you try?”  
  
“What if I want to be little all weekend? What if I’m that way too much?”  
  
Thor laughs. “With _your_ self-care skills, I wouldn’t be surprised if you needed it for the next three days straight. There is nothing you have done or can do that I will consider weird.”  
  
“So you _haven’t_ noticed the dining table?”  
  
Thor chuckles, squeezing him tightly. “My babyboy needed to be here. So here we are.”  
  
Loki fingers the neck of Thor’s shirt. His Daddy’s shirt. _Daddy._  
  
He smiles.  
  
“What is against the rules?” Loki asks.  
  
“Beyond the usual? You resorting to your normal ways of handling anxiety and stress. You come to me when you’re upset, got it? I know it will be awkward at first, but the goal for the weekend is to get you comfortable with me outside of the scene framework, and maybe even…getting you comfy with your special, _little_ wants, okay? I won’t dominate or discipline you until we’re both comfortably settled, unless necessary. Sound reasonable?”  
  
“Fine, but I reserve the right to take my Klonopin on my usual schedule, and if I can’t sleep, I’ll need to be able to leave the bed freely; just lying in bed makes it worse,” Loki replies.  
  
“Of course. You have your stuff already packed or do you need help?” Thor asks, starting to rise.  
  
Loki pulls him back down to the floor. Breath leaves him as he fully realizes what he is doing.  
  
“I need a few more minutes, Daddy,” he murmurs into Thor’s neck.  
  
Thor wraps his arms around him again. Loki breathes deep his faded cologne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> radiatorfromspace.tumblr.com
> 
> In other news, I am a slut for hurt/comfort.


	3. I Swear You Tricked Me to Feel This Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday night. The penguin and dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed Loki has a thing for being at as low an altitude as he can manage. Three times in the first three chapters.

It is still Friday night. Loki awkwardly stands before the sink in Thor's bright, cheery kitchen, filling a glass of water so he can sneak a little more Klonopin after the full dose he had earlier. He stares out the window at the line of trees he can barely discern against the navy of the sky, feeling how unrelenting is the tightness in his chest. His skin is occasionally crawling as listens to Thor chopping crookneck squash, bell peppers, and red onions on the marble-top island behind him. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on his breathing.  
  
He hates breathing.  
  
It’s more than the inevitable return of anxiety and self-doubt which are both presently manifesting as a feeling of profound discomfort in his skin. It’s the fact that he packed a stuffed animal in his bag. And it is now sitting on the opposite corner of the long island, its plastic eyes staring right into the back of his head.  
  
Thor is chopping at the cutting board on the island, directly across from a stuffed penguin.  
  
Loki regrets his decision to bring it immensely. Thank Anyone Thor hasn’t mentioned the penguin yet.  
  
He startles when he realizes Thor is standing beside him. Thor places a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder as he smiles at him. “Nauseous?”  
  
“Fine so far.”  
  
“How are you feeling?”  
  
Loki smiles weakly back at him. At his Da—no. His stomach lurches.  
  
“As well as can be expected.”  
  
~  
  
There is only so much Thor can do here, so he focuses on cooking for now to allow Loki some space.  
  
Thor returns to his cutting board after depositing the vegetables in a greased pan on the burner. He begins to cube the chicken breasts, occasionally glancing up at his uptight cutie’s little _plush_ cutie sitting on the island. He smiles to himself as he works; Loki never mentioned having a stuffed toy, but Thor is looking forward to watching his babyboy cuddle with it.  
  
Backing up—not quite _his_ babyboy yet, but he hopes the long weekend will be time enough to make a difference in Loki’s discomfort with the idea. In the very beginning of their relationship, he didn't anticipate Loki's regular and little-selves would both win him over to this extent, although Thor is fairly confident he managed not to let on about that for at least a month after he quite realized.  
  
Assuming a good match and chemistry, Daddies crave littles as much as littles long for Daddies, but none of his exes who were littles were as inhibited as Loki.  
  
The most Thor can do is his best.  
  
He finishes cubing the chicken and deposits the raw poultry in another pan to begin browning. He has a few minutes before he needs to attend to the pans and start the sauce, so he washes his hands in the sink next to Loki and asks for the penguin’s name.  
  
“Puffer,” Loki grits out, nostrils flaring. It’s cute and Thor can't suppress his smile.  
  
Thor takes Loki’s hand and leads him over to their new fuzzy friend.  
  
“You can play with Puffer as you normally do, if it feels right,” Thor encourages gently.  
  
But Loki merely fidgets with his glass and directs his gaze to many fascinating bits of the hardwood floor.  
  
Thor glances Puffer over again. Now that he looks more closely, the toy appears pristine.  
  
“Have you ever played with Puffer before?” he asks, curious.  
  
“No,” Loki mumbles into his glass of water.  
  
“Have you had any other toys?”  
  
“Not since childhood.”  
  
Aw, his sweetie’s first toy! Thor gets to watch him bond with one for the first time! Thor grins broadly and he loops his arm around the small of Loki’s back. “Come on, let’s meet our polar friend, hm?”  
  
But as Thor pulls him towards Puffer, Loki abruptly descends into a crouch.  
  
“…Are you all right?”  
  
“The air’s a bit rarefied up there, suddenly,” Loki wheezes.  
  
Concerned, Thor crouches to be at eye level with him.  
  
“You brought a toy, but you don’t want him?” Thor asks, brows furrowing.  
  
Loki shakes his head, locks of his hair slapping against the sides of his glass.  
  
“How long have you had Puffer?”  
  
“Years.”  
  
_“Years?”_ Thor asks, his eyebrows shooting halfway up his forehead.  
  
“Seven, to be exact,” Loki adds quietly. “During which I never touched him…except to place him on a shelf and bring him here.”  
  
Thor feels like his heart has just fallen out of his chest and he has to resist the sudden urge to wrap Loki tightly in his arms. His little babyboy has been wanting and denying himself for _seven years..._  
  
“Is there anything I can do to comfort you?”  
  
Loki shakes his head again, refusing to make eye contact and his body language defensive. Loki has always been prone to anxiety and overthinking, but Thor has only ever had to bring him down from serious anxiety a couple of times in the four months they’ve been meeting. It was never as severe as what he is seeing tonight.  
  
Thor bites his lip; tonight he is partly the cause of that distress.  
  
His ultimate goal for the weekend is suddenly clear: get Loki comfortable enough to finally accept and bond with Puffer. He just hopes he has enough time for what already seems an ambitious goal.  
  
And Loki is well past the point where Thor’s typical forms of tactile soothing work. His stomach clenches as it dawns on him how limited his power to address the situation as the Dom is at this moment.  
  
“Let’s just go back to the kitchen. I’ll try the breathing exercises again,” Loki says, already rising.  
  
There is nothing else to do for it until he can find a solution.  
  
Thor returns to tending the food on the stove and Loki trails after him, sitting on a stool at the island closest to him. As Thor brings together ingredients for the cream sauce in one pan, he continues to ponder. Loki appears to be in the part of his anxiety response where his emotional state is self-sustaining and resistant to any form of soothing. Loki is going to continue to plateau, neither seeking comfort nor able to appreciably benefit from it, until something breaks the stagnancy, like a sudden shock causing a sharp spike in distress.  
  
Thor’s gaze falls on the food processor.  
  
It might work.  
  
He fills the food processor’s feed tube with fresh basil leaves and sun-dried tomatoes for the sauce and places his finger on the switch. He shifts so he can watch Loki out of the corner of his eye only to discover he is now huddling on the floor and sagging against the side of the island, and he has to fight the desire to go to him right now.  
  
“Baby, I’m going to make a loud noise now, okay?”  
  
Thor hits the switch and the food processor instantly begins its loud, grating racket.  
  
He was right: despite anticipating the sound, Loki startles visibly at the noise.  
  
Grimacing from both the sound and the tears now leaking down Loki’s face, Thor pulses the machine a few more times out of sheer necessity. By the time he is done, Loki is crying openly, the plateau broken.  
  
His instinct is to go to Loki and kiss it all better, but he needs Loki to take initiative.  
  
“Daddy…” Loki whimpers from the floor, the hurt tone making Thor’s chest ache.  
  
“Daddy’s so sorry he scared you, baby! You want to hug Daddy’s legs?”  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Loki squirm uncomfortably but make no move towards him.  
  
Thor is now multitasking between emptying the food processor, minding all three pans, and trying to watch over his babyboy. This is shitty timing and he can’t leave the stove.  
  
“You don’t want Puffer and Daddy can’t stop what he’s doing right now, honey. Come on, come hug Daddy’s legs, there’s a good boy!”  
  
Loki crawls shakily over to him. Thor plants his feet farther apart to give Loki more room. It’s not logistically ideal, but his heart flutters when he feels his babyboy’s arms wrap around his leg and begin to cling.  
  
_“Good boy!”_ Thor commends, freeing one hand for a moment to give Loki’s hair a quick stroke. He takes the vegetables off the hot burner and dumps them into a serving dish and rotates the chicken. “That’s it, baby, hold nice and tight. I’ll be done very soon. Does the food smell good? Is my babyboy excited to have dinner with Daddy?”  
  
Loki’s only reply is a whimper; Thor bristles—it _hurts_ to not be able to hold him now.  
  
The sauce for the chicken is reduced and finished. He takes it off the burner and sets it on an oven mitt while he gives the chicken a once-over. As he shifts to move a pan, he hears another sharp whimper from below.  
  
“It’s all right, sweetie! Daddy’s not going anywhere; you have him all to yourself. Just wait a little longer, baby…”  
  
Loki is still crying. _Fuck_ , he’s so close and he can’t even pet him properly. Thor dumps the chicken into the mixing bowl with more force than he should have, for some of the cubed chicken comes bouncing out and onto the floor. He grabs the sauce and drizzles it over the chicken in the bowl, rapidly mixing to coat evenly with a spatula. Done.  
  
Thor steps nimbly out from his babyboy’s clutching hands and hoists him up into his arms. “Oh, honey,” Thor croons as he holds him close. While Loki continues to shake and sob, he presses kisses up and down the tear-stained cheeks. He squeezes him, gently stroking him until his baby’s cries diminish to little hurt-sounds. Thor looks into the wet, still-wincing green eyes and kisses him fully and firmly on the mouth.  
  
He holds him until Loki ends the kiss, sniffling and wiping at his cheeks.  
  
_“Hey, hey,”_ Thor murmurs sadly as he pets him. “Holding Daddy’s legs didn’t help? Is that why you are crying, sweetie?”  
  
Loki shakes his head. “I _missed_ you, Daddy.”  
  
“But I was right there with you, baby,” Thor says, puzzled. Loki was never this insecure and needy when he let himself be little before tonight. Maybe the new level of intimacy has changed the dynamic; he can only guess this is it, for his previous experience with littles does not include anyone quite like Loki.  
  
It might also be that Loki wasn’t allowing himself to be fully open about his little-self’s needs before today. He wasn’t ready to go to Thor for everything, to give up that much independence and be that emotionally vulnerable to someone who would only be his Daddy for one night.  
  
There is a surge of protective instinct and suddenly Thor cannot hold his baby tightly enough. Understanding dawns in him and he squeezes him, cradles his head into the crook of his neck as he plasters Loki’s cheek with kisses.  
  
“You just need extra, don’t you, baby?”  
  
Loki makes needy sounds and he burrows further into him. _“Daddy,”_ he whimpers just-so into his neck, making Thor take a breath. If that’s not the sweetest, sexiest word there is—Thor’s heart swells when he feels Loki begin to melt in his arms.  
  
“My babyboy’s just insecure. Daddy will make it better,” Thor rumbles gently between kisses. He tightens his arms around him and continues giving all the extra attention and reassurance Loki refused to seek until tonight.  
  
Warmth and fulfillment fill him as his babyboy gives up trying not to be needy; a needy little gives a Daddy purpose. Thor feels like he is glowing.  
  
~  
  
Loki never knew Thor had such interior decorating style as he wearily crawls into his Daddy's lap at the end of the glass table. The legs are made from circular, painted ironwork and the table top is just a thick, beveled sheet of clear glass.  
  
He accepts the arm Thor wraps around him, but his heart stutters when he sees the loaded fork poised before his face.  
  
“Here you are, honey.”  
  
Loki stares at it a moment, then glances down to the place setting at Thor’s kitchen table. One plate and one set of silverware.  
  
He blushes bright red.  
  
You’d think he would have foreseen this given the nature of what they’re doing, but he’s found that never _quite_ prepares him for the real thing. And he is an ardent fan of the understatement.  
  
Thor gives him a reassuring squeeze. “Why so shy, baby?” he asks, and Loki can feel the rumble of his voice against his back as he speaks.  
  
Loki points his chin down towards his chest, lets his hair hide his face. His present, real vulnerability and the awkwardness of this not-scene make him feel uncomfortable enough to hesitate, yet still good enough to want to remain under the pleasant spell that feels like an invisible cord pulling him towards submission.  
  
“Not hungry? You haven’t eaten in hours, honey, you should eat something.”  
  
Oh, but from the way that chicken with basil-tomato vinaigrette smells, he is famished. His eyes land on the late summer vegetables sautéed in olive oil and herbs on the plate beside the chicken and his stomach growls loudly in staunch approval.  
  
Thor tucks his hair behind his ear and tries again.  
  
His insides squirming in a strange mixture of embarrassment and pleasure, Loki tentatively opens his mouth around the full fork but he pulls off quickly.  
  
“It’s…it’s too hot,” Loki murmurs.  
  
And too tender.  
  
So Thor eats for a few minutes while they wait for the food to cool some more. Loki curls on his side to better snuggle against his…Daddy. That invisible cord pulling him before feels more like a thick rope, pulling harder, and it feels good to follow where it leads. No Daddy Dom ever tried to feed him before, but no other Daddy held Loki the way Thor does, either.  
  
He feels himself slowly, softly sinking, his vulnerability not as frightening as the activity continues.  
  
Then there is Thor’s warm, heavy, confident hand rubbing circles over his back.  
  
“Try again for Daddy?” Thor rumbles softly, the fork again raised in offering.  
  
With a faint blush of what embarrassment remains, Loki opens his mouth and takes a bite. His eyes roll in bliss at the burst of fresh basil and sun-dried tomato sauce on his tongue. God, Thor is a _good_ Daddy…  
  
He feels Thor kiss his hair in praise and Loki wiggles happily on his lap. Thor feeds him forkfuls of vegetables and chicken and it is lovely. Loki blushes, wriggling in the senseless attempt to burrow closer into his Daddy.  
  
It gets easier as they continue until Thor is no longer kissing his hair in praise, he’s kissing him just because.


	4. All I Feel is Your Hands on Me Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday night: bedtime and a few problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains one instance of brief, consensual, non-graphic violence. They both understand what is happening and feel comfortable “safe-wording out” of a scene if/when something is wrong.
> 
> This warning is probably overly cautious.

He’s an idiot. He is, three times in one day! He knew he shouldn’t have checked his work emails this close to bed but he did and the meeting to discuss the “incident last Friday” is on Wednesday and now Thor is trying to put him to bed and it is. Not. Happening.  
  
_No, he doesn’t_ want Puffer or to be tucked in or a lullaby or a bedtime story! Thor’s face attests his surprise when Loki denies all of his bedtime comforts, but Thor knows that tone of voice and elects to wait silently on the other side of the bed for Loki to figure himself out.  
  
Except he does want Puffer, he realizes now as he imagines the shadows encircling his defenseless, little penguin in the kitchen downstairs. Two decades ago, he was always terrified that evil spirits would come in the night to frighten and possess his stuffed toys and he assiduously protected them by tucking them under the bedcovers before darkness fell. Every night, he tucked them all in, checking to make sure there were no gaps between sheet and bed through which the spirits might get to his stuffed friends.  
  
And he is worried about that _now_. It is gnawing at him.  
  
Loki looks over his shoulder at Thor lying on the other side of the bed. He cannot bring himself to tell Thor about Puffer although he knows he wouldn’t bat an eyelash at the request. He knows Thor would retrieve Puffer from the dark, cradling him protectively in his strong, sure arms, handling him as though he was worth no less than solid gold. He would bring Puffer to bed for him and slide in behind him, wrapping one arm around Loki and the other around Puffer and they would cuddle Puffer together. Thor would beam and praise him and just be so unbearably pleased with him for asking for his toy, and for his Daddy to do something for him, and for wanting to bond with Puffer…  
  
He bites his lip and fidgets with the duvet, quite certain he stifled the sudden sob in his throat until he feels Thor’s hands kneading his shoulders.  
  
“What’s wrong, sweetie? You want Daddy?” Thor croons.  
  
_Fuck, yes, he wants_ —Loki fails to swallow another cry and then he’s all wrapped up in Thor’s thick arms, his face buried in the cotton of Thor's nightshirt.  
  
“Shh, shhhh... What is the beautiful boy thinking about right now?”  
  
Loki takes a deep breath and squeezes all of the muscles in his belly. He is going to do this. He can. Irrational feelings aside.  
  
“D-Daddy,” he stammers, feeling the instantaneous change in Thor’s touch as he utters the magic word. Thor’s mind could be submerged in work, but the second Loki says ‘Daddy’, he becomes the sole focus of his Daddy’s attention and concern.  
  
“I… _want_ Puffer. Please. But I-I can’t, I…”  
  
_Fucking…_  
  
“I’m afraid of the dark,” Loki mutters into his pillow.  
  
He can feel how hot his face is from the admission, even if Thor plainly did not hear him and coaxes him to repeat himself once, twice, before he can actually catch the words Loki begrudgingly forces out of his mouth.  
  
_“Baby,_ of course I’ll get Puffer for you,” Thor murmurs soothingly as he rubs his side. Thor kisses his cheek and goes to retrieve the stuffed toy from downstairs.  
  
Woo, that was a good thing. Communication! _Good job_ —and this thought becomes a mantra as he sucks air through his gritted teeth and wrings the sheets in his fists.  
  
He focuses his attention on the contents of Thor's bedroom as he tries to distance himself from his distressing feelings. There are two windows with simple pull-down blinds on the wall adjacent to the bed. Those windows face east, so the morning sun will come in through the cracks in the blinds and spill onto the striped blue wallpaper and the antique wooden nightstand on Thor's side of the bed. It was an ordinary bedroom, not a place to get this worked up...  
  
Then Thor is standing beside the bed, smiling and offering Puffer to him and—ah, there’s the nausea, he’d been wondering where it was hiding.  
  
Loki stares at Puffer as though it was about to condemn him. He takes a deep breath and tentatively reaches forth to stroke its little, gray toes. Thor says a few encouraging things that don’t ever quite reach him. He keeps breathing, trying to will himself to be open to Puffer and the fact that Thor is watching him, a grown man, play with a stuffed toy he sometimes personifies way too much.  
  
It’s no good. He’s all locked up.  
  
Loki drops his hand, points his face down to the floor.  
  
“I’m not ready,” he whispers.  
  
Thor places his free hand on the back of Loki’s neck and begins petting him. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki sees Thor shift Puffer so he is cradled securely between his arm and the notch in his side waist. It makes Loki’s heart flutter a little—he seems like a good Daddy, and at least Puffer is getting some affection so he won't feel rejected.  
  
He promptly nixes that thought.  
  
“What would you like, baby?”  
  
“Will you please build him a bed next to the nightlight?” Loki asks quietly.  
  
With shame, Loki watches protectively from the bed as Thor carefully seats Puffer on a little chair pillow beneath the nightlight against the wall, beyond the border of the black and white carpet. Loki studies the fond expression on Thor’s face, searching for any hint of falseness in the affectionate care he shows the toy as he wraps it securely in an extra blanket from the closet. Thor finishes tucking Puffer in with a kiss to the toy's head.  
  
Loki’s heart eases a little in his chest and he releases a breath he was not aware he was holding.  
  
Still, he feels unwell and he curls up in a ball on the bed. Not ready to hug a toy?  
  
He feels Thor slide into bed behind him, his heavy hand on his side, his breath on his ear as he tries to coax Loki out of it. It makes his heart melt and his skin crawl. He wants to bite Thor. He wants to hurt him. He dearly wants Thor all around him and to be miles away from him at once.  
  
He’s felt this way before. Thankfully, by now Thor is more than able to figure out Loki’s wants and needs with little help.  
  
~  
  
Determined to remain awake until his babyboy is at last at calm and well, Thor enfolds Loki in his arms. But Loki immediately begins to writhe and kick with force, genuinely intending to hurt him. Thor clutches him tightly to his chest to deliver the litmus test: a gentle kiss to the tender spot between his brows.  
  
His gentleness is met with a barely blocked punch to the jaw and Thor understands what he must do.  
  
Thor tries to recapture him but Loki shoves, slaps, and slams his reaching hands as he claws his way to the edge of the bed. Loki rises from bed and Thor follows on his heels, knowing from past experience the chance Loki may hurt himself. He figured out this idiosyncrasy of Loki’s by fortunate accident.  
  
He grabs Loki, wrenches him back against his chest, and pins him there with bruising force. Instantly, Loki stops fighting.  
  
Thor waits a beat, testing, and finishes it off with a commanding tone that brings to heel babyboys, actual children, and adult brats as well: “I want you **here** now.”  
  
The tension promptly leaves Loki and he begins burrowing into Thor—his limbs, his fingers, his lips, all of him seeking the closeness he just fought against: in gratitude, with relief. It is with satisfaction Thor knows he can subjugate the loudest of Loki’s inner demons when he asserts his control. When he demands Loki’s submission and service, he seems to drown out everything else; those agitated, unshakable doubts and worries become silent and meek and Loki can focus on Thor without them tearing at his well-being.  
  
Still stern, Thor welcomes his babyboy’s desirous touches. He strokes Loki’s back encouragingly as he clutches at him. Loki’s face is finally serene as he grasps at him, murmuring _‘Daddy’_ and the tiny, soft whimpers he makes when he cannot get _enough_ of his Daddy.  
  
Thor growls, tangles his free hand in Loki’s hair and tugs, underscoring his dominion. Loki hisses until Thor loosens his grip, and then Loki coos, the ardor with which he burrows renewed.  
  
“Are you my babyboy?” Thor asks, his voice firm but softer.  
  
“Daddy,” Loki purrs as he nuzzles into Thor’s neck.  
  
“Better now?” Thor murmurs as he cups his baby’s cheek.  
  
_“Daddy,”_ Loki croons, eyelashes fluttering as he leans into the touch.  
  
“Back to bed now, come on,” Thor commands as he pulls Loki back to bed, his charge now following meekly behind.  
  
Thor takes a book from the bedside bookcase and lies on his back under the covers, not bothering with the lamp for he can read well enough by the nightlight he installed for Loki. He raises his free arm in welcome and Loki slots into his side instantly, his pale arm curling around his chest and his legs wrapping around his thigh. Thor observes him a moment, carding his fingers soothingly through the long, dark hair and noting his babyboy’s slowing heart rate, before he shows him the book cover. He smiles when he sees Loki’s eyes light up.  
  
Thor opens the book with his free hand and begins to read.  
  
“In the great green room,” Thor rumbles softly, “There was a telephone, And a red balloon, And a picture of—“  
  
Loki wriggles excitedly against him and Thor’s smile grows into a broad grin.  
  
~  
  
“Daddy, I want to find the mouse!” Loki implores as he peers at the illustration. Thor grants his babyboy’s wish, holding the book open until, satisfied, Loki’s head falls back down to rest upon his chest. Loki happily squeezes him again, shifts again, tries to get _even_ closer again although he can never be satisfied in that respect. Thor loves it.  
  
Beaming, Thor turns the page.  
  
“Goodnight nobody…Goodnight mush,” Thor rumbles ever more softly, kissing his baby’s forehead in between each line.  
  
“And goodnight to the old lady who was whispering ‘hush.’”  
  
Loki’s eyelids are looking awfully heavy.  
  
“Goodnight stars…And goodnight air…”  
  
Loki’s eyes are finally tiny slits, just about succumbed to the pull of slumber.  
  
“Goodnight noises _everywhere,”_ Thor concludes in a faint whisper, his lips ghosting kisses against Loki’s skin well past the point when he knows his babyboy is asleep.  
  
Thor gently places the book on his bedside table and closes his eyes, as a wave of contentment settles over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lines are from “Goodnight Moon” by Margaret Wise Brown.
> 
> radiatorfromspace.tumblr.com


	5. I Know My Heart Is Forever Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday morning. Breakfast. The penguin and realizations.

Loki stretches all that can be stretched and flops limply on the mattress. The clock on the bedside table says it is just past ten, but after how late they finally got to sleep last night, it’s not nearly reasonable to leave bed yet. Loki rolls over and presses his front to Thor’s back, wrapping his arm around his waist and tucking his knees behind Thor’s.   
  
“Never figured you for the big spoon,” Thor says with a yawn.   
  
“You don’t like it?”   
  
“I like it,” Thor answers. He entwines his fingers with Loki’s and pulls his arm tighter around him.   
  
They lie like that for a while, Loki savoring the touch and the…he’d call it calm, but weekend mornings alone at his apartment are calm. It’s when he finally leaves bed that his nervous brain starts doing its thing. This isn’t mere calm he feels with Thor, it’s tranquility.   
  
Loki makes a tiny, pleased moan into Thor’s hair. He would take tranquil mornings any day.   
  
They lie there for who knows how long, drowsy and dozing, until Thor rolls over, wrapping himself around Loki and tucking his head beneath his chin until his nose is smooshed against Loki’s collarbone.   
  
“Feeling inspired to make breakfast?” Thor asks, his voice still thick from sleep.   
  
Loki smirks. “So that was why you wanted me to spend the weekend, you were hoping to get some meals out of me!”   
  
Thor laughs. “I started texting you whenever I was hungry just so you’d send me more photos of your cooking. And just in case you were wondering, I’m a _big_ fan of whipped cream.”   
  
“Ooh, the little masochist!” Loki quips. He twirls a lock of golden hair in his fingers. “Do you have an electric mixer?”   
  
“No. Do you need one?”   
  
Loki rolls his eyes. “You have no idea how much work it takes to whip cream by hand.”   
  
“Aw, about as much as this?” Thor queries, his hand wrapping around Loki’s cock. “Sounds awful…”   
  
Loki smirks. “Far more work than that.”   
  
Thor hums into his chest and the conversation peters out; the false starts of a lazy morning. They are quiet and still for a while, both of them too comfortable.   
  
Eventually, Thor stretches and starts kissing along his throat. “Is there any way to _inspire_ the chef, do you think?”  
  
Loki chuckles and lets him; he lies back as Thor’s hand starts stroking his cock to hardness, as he begins sucking red marks into his throat. As that mouth descends beneath the covers and enfolds his dick in wet heat and swirling tongue. He moans gently and reaches down to gently tangle his fingers in Thor’s hair.   
  
It’s a soft, slow, relaxing morning blowjob, no better way to start the day. But Loki is a nudge and, as is so often his wont, he finds himself in the mood to tease.   
  
“Mmm, I think I will make you breakfast, but what? It’s October; _autumn_ … What would be a festive fall breakfast?”   
  
He smirks as he sees Thor’s head rise up a fraction in curiosity before he gets back to suckling. Poor guy’s probably already starving.   
  
“Something with sweet spices, like nutmeg…and cinnamon…and cloves…” His breath hitches as Thor releases a low, rumbling groan around his cock.   
  
“Something hot, with pumpkin and brown sugar.”   
  
Thor bobs his head faster, sucking harder; this morning blowjob is no longer slow or soft, but Loki is not complaining.   
  
“And berries. Maybe a blueberry compote? Berries with lots of fresh, homemade whipped cream.”   
  
Thor’s answering moan would be a yell, if it weren’t for the dick lodged in his throat.   
  
~   
  
Loki has the coffee done and the main dish insulated in aluminum foil by the time he hears Thor come down. He washes the bowls and things to make the whipped cream. He was going to make something more interesting, but the only berries Thor had were strawberries, so strawberries and cream it is.   
  
Thor wraps his arms around Loki’s waist as he pours the cream into a metal bowl and plugs in the— _voila!_ —electric mixer.   
  
“Turns out you did have one.”   
  
“That’s what that thing is? I thought it was for…”   
  
Loki turns his head and gives him such a look that Thor snaps his mouth shut.   
  
“And you were doing so well last night,” Loki teases.   
  
“I’m single, thirty, and I’ve never thrown a dinner party in my life. My culinary knowledge is limited to specific areas.”   
  
“Huh.”   
  
_“Not cream.”  
  
_ “Don’t try talking to me while this is on, I hate that.”   
  
Thor rests his head on his shoulder and Loki starts the mixer, adding the sugar in increments and whipping until he gets soft peaks.   
  
He sets the mixer aside and detaches the beaters. He hands one to Thor without hesitation; he’s a licker. The token is accepted with gratitude and Loki pours the sweetened, whipped cream into a serving dish next to a small plate of strawberries. Still licking his beater, Thor goes about making place settings for the both of them while Loki brings the various serving bowls, syrup, sugar, and half-n-half.   
  
They sit opposite each other at the glass table. Thor pours coffee and serves himself a few strawberries with a dollop of cream. Loki rests his hand atop the seam in the foil-covered plate of pancakes—well, not really just pancakes—and smirks at Thor’s excited glances.   
  
“Well, what is it?” Thor blurts out.   
  
Loki delicately peels back the foil to reveal orange pancakes with curious, bronze swirls leading to their centers. The look on Thor's face tells him exactly when the aroma hits him.   
  
“Pumpkin _cinnamon roll_ pancakes.”   
  
Judging by the look on Thor’s face as he chews his first bite, Loki may or may not be the incarnation of the god of cooking.   
  
Loki smiles as he tucks into his meal, glad for the feeling of recovering some of his dignity after Friday night. Several pancakes, two cups of coffee, and a few strawberries later, Thor’s stomach is sated enough for his curiosity to have its turn.   
  
“When did you start cooking? Did you ever formally study it?” Thor asks although his mouth is still half-full.   
  
Loki rolls his eyes at his spotty table manners. “I dabbled in it in high school, but I only began pursuing it as a hobby a few years ago when I noticed what a reprieve it was when I was anxious.”   
  
“Why do you think that is?” Thor asks.   
  
“Probably because it’s a creative process, something you do with your hands which keeps you in the present, as well as being a small, manageable task I can control.   
  
“This is a very nice apartment,” Loki comments as he eyes the decorative crown molding. “I’m surprised you’ve never hosted a dinner party here.”   
  
“Oh, I’ve only been living here for two years. My aunt owned it and left it to me in her will, as well as some of the furniture. I’ve never cooked a big meal for a group of people before, except family.”   
  
“Mm,” Loki hums. “She had good taste in apartments. What was she like?”   
  
~  
  
They are lying on the black leather couch in Thor's living room watching the television. It's a comfortable room with a nice rug, an old mahogany coffee table, a bookcase, a rocking chair, and a large flatscreen television mounted on the wall. But neither of them are happy.   
  
The original idea was to watch a movie, but after the hundredth time Loki fusses, whines, or squirms for attention— _and is not soothed by Thor freely giving it_ —Thor grabs the remote and hits ‘stop’ instead of ‘pause’.   
  
“What, baby, _what?”_ Thor asks, cupping his cheeks. Loki’s eloquent tongue is apparently pulling a disappearing act and this makes the Daddy in Thor is wary.   
  
Loki begins to pull away. Thor tries to get a secure hold, but Loki is a slippery thing when he wants to be.   
  
_“Oh, no, you_ —you’re not going anywhere. You come to Daddy when you’re upset, remember?” Thor tries to quell his babyboy’s squirming by squeezing him against his chest, but this only makes Loki struggle harder. Loki squirms until he gets some leverage and then he bites Thor’s wrist.   
  
Thor swears aloud—of the pet names he could dream up, ‘Jaws’ sounds pretty fucking accurate right now!   
  
He turns them so they are both upright, him holding Loki by the shoulders as he stares him dead in the eye.   
  
“Don’t **ever** bite Daddy. You don’t _ever_ try to hurt Daddy, okay? You can _always_ safe-word out. Do you want to use your safe-word now, baby?”   
  
Loki merely stares at him.   
  
“Are you sure? Baby, what’s wrong? You want to tell Daddy what’s wrong? Come on, honey…” Give him _something_ to work with…   
  
Loki isn’t even anxious, he’s just—frustrated? Restless? Definitely agitated, but why Thor cannot guess. Given how Loki has been nonverbal the entire time, Thor suspects it is related to his little-self.   
  
As Thor considers his meager options, his gaze falls on Puffer.   
  
Thor extends a hand towards where Puffer sits on the coffee table, his intent clear without touching the toy.  
  
“Can Daddy please play with Puffer?” Thor asks gently.   
  
Loki gives him a worried look, not from distrust of him, Thor is certain, but from default protectiveness over Puffer.   
  
He nods. But before Thor can touch Puffer, Loki grabs his arm, mumbling, “But don’t…Daddy, don’t squeeze him too hard or pull his wings.”   
  
“Daddy promises not to hurt him, okay? _Thank you.”_ Thor gently picks Puffer up and sets him down upon his chest as he lies down at an angle where Loki can fully observe. And he does indeed have Loki’s rapt attention.  
  
Thor is careful to appear as though Puffer has the entirety of his attention, but he minds Loki’s responses in his peripheral vision. He begins to play with Puffer, at first tickling each of the cute, little, gray toes, then petting his soft, white tummy. He slides his fingers beneath each wing and makes them flap, then “flies” Puffer over to Loki’s face and gently bops his cheek with a plush wing. Loki wrinkles his nose and smiles. Well, that’s a hopeful sign!   
  
Thor sets Puffer back down on his chest and begins to aimlessly play with him. His fingers and gaze wander, meandering around the stuffed penguin with unhurried interest. He caresses the curve of the stuffed, leatherette beak with his thumb, traces around the shining, plastic eyes the color of caramel, smooths his palm over the toy’s round head. He feels the coat: short, dense, plush, and made of some synthetic fiber. He looks closer and notices the little yellow patch just above Puffer’s beak where it anchors into his head, and the small frills of orange on either side of the beak, suggesting the break between beak nose and jaw. He runs his fingers down the curve of Puffer’s back and tweaks the nub of a tail on his bottom. Puffer is a cutie. Thor places a kiss on the penguin’s forehead.   
  
“Um, Daddy, I’m okay with restarting the film whenever you are.”   
  
Thor nods and taps the ‘play’ button on the remote, then settles back down on the couch with Puffer, deliberately refraining from coaxing Loki to lie beside him. Perhaps it might not be necessary.   
  
Thor angles his arm so he can comfortably cradle Puffer and turns his gaze back to the television screen. Once again, he is careful to appear to be watching the film but he is mindful of Loki in his peripheral vision.   
  
It appears Loki cannot commit to watching the movie _or_ Thor and Puffer. He sits on the edge of the couch, running his thumbs absently over the edge of the couch cushion as his gaze moves back and forth. He dips his chin, his face unreadable, and watches whenever Thor kisses Puffer’s head, gives his chest a gentle stroke, or runs his thumb over his furred cheek.   
  
After about ten minutes of this, he lies down beside Thor with the back of his head beside Thor's navel to watch the television screen.   
  
Loki does not fuss for the rest of the film.   
  
_Ah._   
  
~   
  
When the credits roll, Thor's attention is drawn downwards by a nervous tugging at the hem of his shirt. He looks down and sees Loki's head hanging low as he worriedly bites his lip; Thor promptly moves Puffer to sit upon his side and beckons him to come.   
  
“Is this my babyboy?” Thor croons encouragingly. “C'mon, plenty of love for you both.”   
  
Loki crawls forward a ways before hanging back. Thor leans forward to give him a light, little kiss on the nose and waits there until Loki softly presses his lips around the tip of Thor's nose in return. Thor replies with a quick series of noisy, feather-light kisses against his lips which make his baby grin.   
  
“Mmhmm, c'mon,” Thor chirps, coaxing him until Loki nuzzles against his face. _Aw, sweetie!_ He melts.  
  
Thor pounces, diving for the vulnerable neck and attacking with a battery of forceful, noisy kisses against one of Loki's ticklish spots until his babyboy curls, giggling, against his chest and tucks his head beneath his chin.   
  
Grinning, Thor wraps his arms tightly around his prize. _“Good baby_ , coming to Daddy when you wanted something,” he praises as he presses a few more kisses to his cheek.   
  
“Are you my babyboy, hm? Feeling better?” Thor croons.   
  
With a sound that is more of a happy moan than an actual word, Loki answers: “Mhm!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> radiatorfromspace.tumblr.com


	6. Doing Things I Never Ever Have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday afternoon. More about the penguin. And bath time porn.

As they walk to the kitchen, Thor sets Puffer on the island between himself and the stool on which Loki is seated. Thor pulls honey wheat bread, ham, roast turkey, brie, pea shoots, and mayonnaise out of the refrigerator and begins to make a sandwich for them to share because their breakfast was so late. And because he knows an opportunity to encourage his little when he sees it.  
  
While layering the ingredients over the bread, Thor intermittently brushes Puffer’s head with his wrist since his fingers are a mess. He slices the sandwich in half diagonally, then cuts off a little corner of his slice. He takes a little espresso saucer from the cupboard, sets the tiny sandwich on top of it, and places it before Puffer.  
  
Thor doesn’t bother with plates, and while Loki is staring at him with that adorable, beet-red blush on his face, Thor sits on the stool beside him and hands him a half-sandwich. There are no words, only contented munching, and Loki’s face buried in Thor’s shoulder.  
  
Grinning, Thor accepts Loki’s investigation of just how far he can bury himself in his muscles. It’s a rather endearing way for Loki to cope with his embarrassment.  
  
Once their half-sandwiches have disappeared and Loki is satisfied with his serious research into Thor’s muscle density (and resulting suitability as burrowing material), Loki goes to Puffer and swipes the tiny, penguin-sized sandwich from the espresso saucer. He pops it in his mouth as he affectionately curls one finger around one of Puffer’s gray feet. His face sours when he catches Thor watching.  
  
“Shut up,” he snaps.  
  
Thor grins, says not a word.  
  
Loki soon leaves Puffer and returns to his stool. Ah, well, it’s a start and Loki did it all on his own.  
  
“Bath time, baby.”  
  
~  
  
He’d imagined this might happen, so he did a bit of extra work when he was “shaving off his stubble” in Thor's bathroom this morning.  
  
Thor’s eyebrows jump and his lips curve into a little smile when he pulls the shirt off him. His little smile turns into an impressed grin when the jeans and briefs come off. He runs the back of a hand over Loki’s smooth, hairless groin, then over his silky thighs.  
  
Loki stands on the bath mat with his hands wringing each other behind his back as he presents all he shaved for his Daddy.  
  
“Do you like it, Daddy?” he asks, flushing and rather eager for approval. Thor cups his chin and tilts his face upwards. He is smiling broadly.   
  
“I always like my babyboy. But this is very special, thank you.”   
  
Loki feels his heart flutter at Thor’s approval. He accepts Thor’s hand as he assists him into the bathtub, already full with hot water.   
  
“How does the water feel, baby?”   
  
“It feels good, Daddy, thank you.”   
  
Loki’s eyes fly up as Thor peels off his shirt. He never says no to a view of all those muscles.   
  
Wearing nothing but a pair of faded jeans, Thor kneels beside the tub and presses his palm flat against Loki’s chest. Loki grasps his wrists for security and relaxes as Thor slowly pushes him down into the bath. He pulls him back up, hair now soaked, and spreads shampoo over his hands. Thor instructs him to bring his back towards him and begins to work the shampoo through the roots. Thor’s technique quickly becomes a scalp massage rather than an efficient cleanse and as the smile spreads slowly across Loki’s face, he knows Thor is tilting his head back just to savor the results of his touch.   
  
_Rinse, condition, turn please._   
  
Smiling his silent thanks that Thor is foregoing the shower puff, Loki watches him spread the body wash all over his hands. Loki allows him to rub and scrub into all of his grooves, ridges, and curves, starting at his neck and working his way down. His touch is confident, slow, and gentle. The body wash has made his thick fingers so slippery.   
  
_Does my babyboy forget to wash behind his ears? No, Daddy, never._   
  
Thor’s diligent hands descend to his hips beneath the water. He pauses to get more body wash. Such a waste.   
  
“How does my baby feel now, hm?”   
  
Thor’s fingers are rubbing him clean, on his hips and then right around his navel, then a little lower.   
  
“Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good,” he purrs, until a sharp pain in his ass makes him yelp.   
  
Thor pinches his ass harder for emphasis, his breath ghosting against Loki’s ear as he whispers in his _in-no-uncertain-terms_ voice: “Language, baby.”   
  
_Fuck!_ Loki turns his head to hide how he’s grinning.   
  
He can feel the air change suddenly and then Thor’s arm is wrapped tightly around his chest, pinning him hard against the side of the tub. Oops.   
  
“What do we say when we break the rules, baby?” Thor asks _too_ nicely. Loki’s cock jumps.  
  
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Loki lies breathlessly as his heart rate quickens. He bites his lip again as Thor’s hold tightens.   
  
“That’s better,” Thor says in a gentler voice. His hands return beneath the water to skip Loki’s groin and begin rubbing the body wash all over his thighs. Loki pouts as his Daddy’s big hands slide down his legs, over every inch of bare skin down to the tips of his toes. Thor squeezes along the muscles, stroking with the perfect balance of firmness and gentleness Loki is dying to be subjected to elsewhere.   
  
“Did I do a good job, Daddy?”   
  
“You didn’t miss a spot, baby! Smooth as a dolphin.”   
  
Thor pulls his hands back up to his knees and jabs behind the joint. Loki giggles and kicks, wriggling away. Thor hums pleasantly and wraps his arms around Loki’s chest, pulling his back against the side of the tub again. He rests his chin on his shoulder.   
  
“How does my babyboy feel?”   
  
“Fine, Daddy,” Loki says sweetly. Thor gives him a soft kiss on the cheek.   
  
“Does my baby need anything?”   
  
“Nothing at all, Daddy.”   
  
Thor stills. Loki’s cock twitches.   
  
_“Baby,”_ Thor says lowly, turning Loki so he can look him in the eye. “What have I told you about lying to Daddy?”   
  
Loki flushes and drops his gaze.   
  
“That is against the rules,” Thor says softly, “Now show Daddy where it hurts.”   
  
Slowly, Loki slides his shaking hands over his skin to grasp the base of his hard, aching cock.   
  
“Right here, Daddy,” he murmurs. “Can you please kiss it better?”   
  
But there is only a long stretch of silence. Loki begins to tremble and he shyly glances up. He can see the bulge in his Daddy’s pants, but Thor is only smirking at him—smug, in control, and loving what this silence is doing to Loki’s insides.   
  
“Normally Daddy _would_ kiss it better…” Thor replies thoughtfully. “But his babyboy has been especially naughty today: foul language and lying. What do two strikes get us, hmm?”   
  
Loki swallows thickly, suddenly full of nervous energy from top to bottom. He slowly turns his back to Thor and bends over until his ass is sticking out of the water. He feels Thor’s hands grip his hips, adjusting for a better angle, and then all touch is removed.   
  
Loki remains there on his hands and knees, his bare, clean ass sticking out and available, and nothing. And he knows better than to turn his head to look.   
  
_“Fuck!”_ Loki blurts out more in surprise than pain at the first smack. Then he realizes what he’s done, pinching his eyes shut and smothering another expletive as Thor pinches the same ass cheek he just spanked.   
  
**“No** foul language, baby.”   
  
“Y-yes, Daddy, I’m sorry!” Loki says quickly. And then:   
  
“Daddy, you’re so shitty at this.”   
  
With a face-splitting grin, Loki looks over his shoulder. Thor’s eyebrows have shot halfway up his forehead.   
  
_“Oh,_ baby feels bratty today.”   
  
Loki whimpers as his ass receives another slap, this one hard and stinging. He grits his teeth, grunting as his Daddy spanks him, no doubt leaving red marks on his cheeks, making his cock jump against his belly as the rest of him jumps at each slap. Until spanking turns into a finger slick with body wash slipping inside his hole.   
  
Loki gasps as much in surprise as the stretch and the wave of warmth speedily spreading throughout his body. Uncertain if his Daddy is done punishing him, Loki remains very still, letting Thor’s finger have his hole, until it finds his prostate and circles it.   
  
Oh, Daddy is _done_ punishing him, alright! Loki’s eyelids droop and his lips part around the littlest sound for what is just beginning, but as he starts to press back against Thor’s hand, it is withdrawn.   
  
Loki mewls sadly at the loss but he obeys when Thor pushes him farther into the tub. Thor strips off his jeans and briefs and joins him in the bath, lying on the floor of the tub as he yanks Loki towards him to kneel over his hips.   
  
Loki stares at his Daddy’s cock, swollen and full, lying there in the water beneath him. He tries to bear down to brush their cocks together, but suddenly Thor is gripping his hip, keeping him on his knees, as his other hand snakes between his legs and the twin swells of his ass, and the finger slips back inside. _Much_ better angle—Loki’s eyes go dark as he promptly begins bucking his hips, planting his hands on Thor’s chest for support, as he chases the rhythm of that finger. He presses back, hoping for a second finger to be added, and then a nice, fat cock.   
  
He reaches down towards his Daddy’s cock, to excite him, to please him, to tempt him. But when he tries to grasp it, Thor swats his hand away.   
  
“No, baby, that’s against the rules.”   
  
Heartbreak written all over his face, Loki gapes at Thor. “But _why,_ Daddy?!?!”   
  
But this crushing revelation is soon forgotten as Thor’s finger works its way deeper, brushing harder against his sweet spot.   
  
Loki resumes bucking, happily climbing steadily towards his peak even without the stretch he wants, the sheer fullness his Daddy can provide. His belly clenches, he squeezes Thor’s shoulders, biting his lips, and then the pleasure stops.   
  
Loki opens his eyes to stare at Thor, unbelieving, not processing. He paws at him, nudges his wrist, then again more urgently as he starts to come down, his orgasm slipping out of reach.   
  
And then the real heartbreak sets in: _this_ is his punishment.   
  
Thor’s smirks, but his eyes are dark and heavy-lidded from the sight above him, and soon his finger begins to move again. Loki releases a pathetic whine followed by a moan as the pleasure starts back up again from almost the very bottom.   
  
“Kiss me, please kiss me, Daddy,” Loki begs. Thor obliges, pushing him forward to smoosh their lips together in a wet, messy kiss. Loki mewls and moans into his mouth, making such pleasing sounds that he makes Thor groan.   
  
Loki reaches for his own cock but Thor blocks his attempt.   
  
“Not until I say so, baby,” Thor croons sweetly.   
  
Loki lets out a frustrated groan and resorts to his sole course of action: pressing back against that one finger. Fuck, his cock is aching; he _wants_ it and Daddy won’t give it, won’t even let Loki play with himself.   
  
Thor withdraws his finger and pushes Loki backwards, turning him so he’s back on his hands and knees again. Loki gets a thrill when he feels Thor’s cock hanging heavily on his bum and he pushes his ass up invitingly, hoping to be stuffed full soon no matter what his Daddy originally decreed. Thor reinserts his finger, going right for his prostate, and Loki spreads his legs as wide as possible with a moan and an enticing wiggle. But then contact with Thor’s cock disappears and Loki is not given more fingers but a tongue, warm and wetly lapping at his entrance before pushing its way through the rings of muscle, fighting with his own finger to get access to his insides.   
  
With a high, urgent cry, Loki shoves his hips back, trying to get more of these intrusions against his sweet spot. Thor hums into his flesh and Loki whines, bucking helplessly.   
  
“Daddy, please, I want you,” Loki begs as Thor keeps playing inside his hole. He grinds back against his face. Thor pulls his tongue out to lick down and up his taint before shoving it back into his hole. “I need it, please, oh _please_ , oh, fuck, Daddy!”   
  
The blessed tongue is withdrawn for his foul language and he is spanked so hard it stings. He yelps and lowers his head.   
  
“I’m sorry, Daddy, please, put it back, put it back now, pretty please…”   
  
With a growl, Thor spanks him again, but lighter this time, and he returns his tongue to work alongside his finger.   
  
“Thank you, Daddy,” Loki moans, bucking his hips feverishly against all that Thor is doing to him. “D-Don’t you want to be inside, Daddy? Isn’t—oh, ffff—isn’t it good and tight? Wouldn’t you…wouldn’t you rather…”  
  
“Mmm, my baby has the tightest, sweetest little ass in the world,” Thor rumbles directly into his flesh. “Daddy cannot wait to make him loose and stuff him full.”   
  
“Daddy, please take me, please! Pretty please with sugar on top, I—”   
  
Thor starts purring into his hole and he bucks sharply back, wailing, uncertain if he’s helping or hurting his chances.   
  
Thor withdraws and turns Loki to face him, making him straddle over his cock which he can’t touch. He slides his finger back in but, oh, _then_ he pushes another big, thick digit inside and Loki groans, sinking gratefully back down onto them. There’s the stretch he needs.   
  
“You like that, baby? You like having Daddy inside your little hole? Show Daddy how good it feels.”   
  
Loki lets his mouth hang open as he bounces on top of double the girth that almost made him come before. He pulls himself up and down on his Daddy’s arm, faster and harder, his eyes dark as he gazes down at Thor’s smirk. That smirk grows when Loki begins to whimper and squeeze, signs he is approaching the very edge.   
  
“Will you be a good boy for Daddy? No more bad language or lying?”   
  
“Yes, _yes,_ Daddy, I’ll be a good boy,” Loki pleads, his hips stuttering. He is so damn close.   
  
“Are you _sure_ you can do it, baby? Daddy needs to know you’re ab-so-lutely certain…”   
  
Fuck, his fingers are crooked _just_ the right way.   
  
_“Yes, Daddy, yes!”_ Loki screams, _“I’ll be a good boy, **please!** I need—” _  
  
“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”   
  
But his hand is already tight around Loki’s cock. Loki bucks frantically against the fingers and into the hand twice, thrice—   
  
“Show me, baby, come on!”   
  
—four times before he shoots his load all over Thor’s chest.   
  
Loki plops down onto muscled thighs as Thor milks the last of his orgasm out of him. Loki releases a soft, happy moan and then Thor is pulling him down, tucking against his chest in the warm water. Loki licks up his own mess and wiggles happily, snuggling closer as he gets kisses for fucking Daddy’s fingers and cleaning up so well.   
  
“Good boy,” Thor commends as he strokes up and down Loki’s back. “You agreed to be good and that makes Daddy very happy.”   
  
Loki grins, giggles. “I’ll be the best goddamn bitch ever!”   
  
Thor stills. Loki beams.   
  
Ohplease,ohplease,ohplease—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> radiatorfromspace.tumblr.com


	7. Lost in Your Witchcraft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday night. A long way in a short while.

The air in the living room still smells lightly of spices and peanut sauce when Loki returns with two mugs of doctored-up Swiss Miss hot chocolate. He sits gingerly, his bottom still pleasantly sore after his bath, and the leather couch cushion groans softly as he settles against Thor to watch the gas fire burning prettily in the grate.

Thor accepts his mug with an appreciative hum. “Now for those almond cookies I told you about,” he says, reaching for the paper bag with the Thai restaurant’s logo. “…This bag is awfully light,” he comments suspiciously.

“I only ate the broken ones, so technically I’m a hero,” Loki answers quickly before taking a sip of his concoction. 

“A generous hero,” Thor mumbles mid-munch, clearly doing his best not to get crumbs on the couch. Loki watches his face carefully as he takes his first sip from the mug. Thor’s eyebrows soar.

“I’d never guess you started with Swiss Miss as a base,” Thor comments appreciatively. “What did you put in here?”

“More dark Dutch cocoa powder, some spices, a bit of whole milk, and maple agave nectar.”

Although Loki added honey instead of nectar to his mug for the sake of his throat; Thor was a man who liked choices and gave him one for his proper punishment: choke on dick or sit handcuffed to a chair with a vibrator up his ass on low frequency for an hour.

Loki sips his hot chocolate. Effective.

Thor swallows thoughtfully. “I didn’t know I had that maple agave anything.”

Loki shrugs. “I was going by instinct. Maybe it was an apartment-warming gift?”

“Oh! Yeah, Volstagg outdid himself covering the culinary aspect of my ‘apartment-warming',” Thor chuckles. “I’m glad someone is using some of it.” He takes another sip. “What are the spices?”

“Cinnamon, nutmeg, ground cloves, ginger.”

“And the kick?”

“Chili powder.”

Thor just looks at him, a warm smile slowly spreading over his face. His eyes glow when he looks at Loki that way; it makes Loki grin stupidly and squirm, fuzzy feelings multiplying like bunnies in his chest. All this nice-ness should really stop.

“My little chef,” Thor says softly, pulling Loki close so their foreheads touch. Stupid Thor and his stupid smiling eyes and just—the sheer number of sins this man has committed! Worse yet, Loki can’t seem to stop smiling back at him.

“I cut back to half on Klonopin tonight,” Loki admits quietly. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I…thought I might not need as much.”

Thor’s grin broadens so it’s nearly splitting his face, and all because of him. His heart flutters.

“I’m glad I agreed to spend the weekend. How, um, how is it going for you?” Loki asks, acutely aware of the sudden feeling of vulnerability the question evokes in him.

Still smiling, Thor cups his cheek and leans in to press their lips together. The kiss is soft, slow, and long, leaving Loki forgetful of his need to breathe, while falling and floating and possibly defying a few laws of physics.

Eventually Thor pulls back just enough that they can speak without their lips brushing. He tucks a strand of dark hair behind Loki’s ear and nods, smiling again.

“I hope you stay over again sometime.” 

Loki smiles shyly, begins to turn his head to hide it, but Thor catches him.

“No,” Thor says, squeezing his hand. “I’m _really_ happy you came over.”

Nervous despite the lack of rejection, Loki waves his hand. “Aw, you make it sound like I drove myself over here like a mature, well-adjusted adult.”

Thor snorts in amusement but says nothing. Loki fingers the neck of Thor’s shirt. His newfound level of comfort in Thor’s presence aside, he cannot bring himself to make eye contact when he speaks:

“It’s been…difficult doing our thing when now we’re trying to…”

“Date?”

Loki’s expression wilts. He couldn’t even bring himself to use that word for fear of being rejected, as though somehow he’d wildly misinterpreted Thor’s words on Friday. Right, self-doubt still ever-present. _Good to know!_

“Yes. It…submission and the ‘babyboy’ persona make me feel as though there’s _something wrong with me,”_ he says sweetly, as though he’s listing attractive features of a house. “And while you have thus far demonstrated your unwillingness to reject me for it, I can’t quite shake the feeling you will in time.”

Thor clasps the back of his neck and starts to massage him.

“Loki, I welcome that part of you. Try to remember the way I feel about little-you is the same way you feel about Daddy-me. The day you feel ready to accept yourself and fully submit to me as your Daddy, I will be honored and cherish y—” 

“—I mean, it’s partially just a product of my diagnosis. I worry about things that one normally wouldn’t worry about, it’s what I do.”

“Right. But a second ago you were referring to you and Puffer or the whole little thing?”

“It’s not a phase, it’s just the way I am, I—“

“Loki, I want to speak.”

“No! I’m worried about what you’ll say if I let you talk!”

Thor holds his index and middle finger before his mouth. “Suck,” he orders.

Loki does not suck. Instead, he gives him a withering look.

Thor’s eyes widen and his face flushes. He shakes his head, lightly smacking his forehead.

“Sorry,” Thor says sheepishly. “We’ve been doing our thing a lot lately.”

Loki smirks. “Oooh, I like seeing you embarrassed.”

Thor rolls his eyes. He reclines so his back is supported by the thick, padded armrest of the couch. “C'mere, sit on Papa’s lap.”

Loki scowls, flushing slightly. “We’re not...”

“You’re right. And I want you to move your butt anyway.”

Loki awkwardly knee-walks forward until he can sit on Thor’s hips. Thor draws his knees up behind him like a backrest and holds both his hands.

“Please tell me about you and Puffer,” Thor requests softly.

Loki shifts uncomfortably, looks away. Thor should take it as a compliment that he reveals so much of his feelings to him, even if he does so nonverbally.

“What is there to tell? I have no tales for this curiosity.”

Thor squeezes his hands. “You bought him for yourself, and you never threw him out even though you never even touched him again. For seven years. He means a lot to you, so why don't you want to play with him now that you have a Daddy to take care of you and you can be little?”

The look in Thor's eyes and the way he holds him, so—openly earnest and tender and—truly, Thor sets a daunting example to follow.

Loki begins to shy away but Thor squeezes his hands earnestly.

“Do you feel at all unsafe when I am your Daddy? Is there something more I could do to resolve whatever the problem is?” he asks. 

Loki is silent, partly from the disquiet stalling his train of thought, as he struggles to consider his options.

“Because it feels like you're all there with me when you're little, but if that were true, you would be comfortable bonding with your toy. You'd be comfortable with me being there, supporting you in that.”

The mental image that comes to mind is indeed heart-warming and Loki shivers with—discomfort and the pleasure of that tender vulnerability? Letting go? But the confusing feeling turns to sourness in his stomach. He wants to push Thor away just so Thor will break through his barriers and prove the strength of his desire for him.

 _Wholly unrealistic expectations and wrong,_ he thinks to himself in the voice of his old therapist. And yet it would be so satisfying if Thor would—

“Is there some gesture you want me to make or some toll I'm supposed to pay?” Thor asks.

Perfect bull's eye. Coldness spreads through him at the suggestion. Perhaps because Thor is so very, frustratingly right.

“If there were a price,” he hisses, “you could never afford it.”

Thor's eyes widen and he pulls back slightly. Loki feels his old walls coming back to him, the ones Thor began to dissolve with startling ease months ago. A little more and he won't need Thor like a plant does the sun, he can leave him hurt and confused in his apartment with only Puffer for company. And never return—his texts, his calls, or to his apartment. Yes, that is exactly what he will do.

He feels Thor wrap his big arms tightly around him, pulling him so close their foreheads touch.

 _“Honey, you're crying,”_ Thor whispers. 

Loki sniffs and is abruptly aware of the hot, wet mess on his cheeks. So he is! He tries to push out of Thor's arms but he only holds him tighter as he murmurs abominably sweet things to him. His half-hearted resistance stops when his arms turn to lead and he gives up, letting Thor absorb his shakes and sobs.

“Loki, are you afraid of me…?”

“No,” Loki snaps, wiping his nose on his arm. And truly, Thor should feel honored Loki is so open with him, whether or not he just lied. “I'm simply anticipating the day when you will stop wanting to care for me.”

He doesn't have the heart to look at Thor's face. Perhaps he's saved himself by being too needy, too much of a mess for Thor to want him anymore; better this way, before he gets further attached and the breakup is the emotional equivalent of losing a leg.

He feels Thor's arms tighten around him, the comforting, tender gesture squeezing more sobs from him.

“Tell me about you and Puffer,” Thor repeats softly.

Loki squirms and buries his face in the crook of his neck, as though this will magically exempt him from the request.

“Please,” Thor urges. “I get the feeling he's important to your discomfort about being little.”

“He's special,” Loki says between sniffles.

“He's very special,” Thor agrees. “Do you love him?”

Loki thinks. Not sure. But he will slay the bitch who harms his toy. So that's a strong feeling…

“I think so,” he murmurs. “The way I experience feelings is often different when I'm little. But I need to protect him; I'd be devastated if someone hurt him when I wasn't there to protect him.”

“It's deeply upsetting when you can't protect one of your treasures,” Thor murmurs as he strokes his hair. “But you allowed me to play with him during the movie. How did you feel when I did that?”

Loki is quiet as he tries to sort through his confused emotions during the movie that afternoon.

“You didn't laugh at me,” he answers. “You didn't make me feel broken.”

The hand stroking his hair pauses, then Thor squeezes him a little tighter.

“You feel broken because you love your toy?”

Loki rolls his eyes. _“Yes,”_ he snaps with a burst of exasperation, “We've already covered that doing this outside of an artificial scene is difficult for me.”

“And you felt better after seeing me be nice to your toy?”

“And you showed him affection...” Loki murmurs, the irritation he felt a moment ago utterly gone and replaced with the half tender, half frightening feeling of vulnerability.

“What is Puffer to you?”

“I don't know. The way I relate to him is fluid. Sometimes...”

“Yeah? Sometimes what?”

“I don't want to talk about it,” he says, curling his arms around himself.

“It would really help me if you told me more,” Thor says kindly, but he changes his tone to his sweet Daddy voice which he knows does things to him: “You want to tell your Daddy all these special things so he can take the very best care of you? Would my baby like that?”

 _Ffffffffuck_ , this _guy_. Slap him and kiss him and fuck him, he just—his insides turned to warm honey at the first word.

“I need you to not do that now,” Loki says despite the pang of disappointment at delaying gratification.

Thor chuckles. “Sorry, I wanted to be comforting.”

“You are very comforting, but that's not the mindset I need to be in if you want this conversation to happen.”

They are both quiet a moment as Loki steels himself. Openness and communication; they are virtues, not demons.

“Everyone knows littles love their toys, but I was so embarrassed about Puffer, I never even mentioned him to my previous Doms. There was something about Puffer, I couldn't bear to let anyone know about him. Then on an absurd impulse, I put him in my bag Friday night before you picked me up. Then you didn't...you didn't hurt him, you didn't...”

“It's okay. Did your previous Daddies dislike toys or something? Was one of them an asshole who brought you a toy and deliberately hurt it in front of you? Did someone who wasn't a Dom do that to you?”

“Not literally,” he mumbles.

Loki counts the seconds when the only sound in the room is the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Thor squeezes him tightly. 

“Sweetie, I'm so sorry! I still don't know exactly what—you don't have to tell me anything—I...” Thor tries to tuck him closer but it's impossible; he is already plastered against him.

“Daddy's right here and he promises never to—“

_“Stop.”_

“I'm sorry. It's a knee-jerk reaction, almost… But I wouldn't do that to you. I wouldn't.”

“When we were watching the movie, I felt like I couldn't reach out to you for anything. Intellectually, I knew otherwise; emotionally, I could not. Then you picked up the toy that makes me feel so insufferably uncomfortable in my own skin and you were nice to him. You behaved as though you liked him, despite how foolish the whole thing is.”

“It's normal for littles to have toys...”

“It doesn't feel normal for me,” he snaps. “It's like asking to be kicked in the face with a steel-tipped boot.”

~

Some time later once they have both calmed down, Loki digs into his pocket for his wallet. He withdraws a few bills and hands them over, at last meeting Thor’s eye. “For my half of dinner.”

Thor waves it away. “I got dinner, don’t worry about it.”

“It would alleviate some of my guilt,” Loki says enticingly. But when Thor shakes his head resolutely, he slips the bills under Thor’s shirt.

“You’re going to receive these bills in your post box, you know. Just come here and cuddle,” Thor says, placing the bills on the coffee table, tugging Loki down onto him, and pulling a blanket over the two of them. Loki nestles down, grateful for the change of topic and that Thor isn't treating him differently.

“You were a really good daddy for figuring it out, though,” Loki mumbles.

He feels the rumble of Thor’s chuckle deep in his belly. “Aw, gonna write me a card for Father’s Day?”

Loki wrinkles his nose in distaste. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

He feels Thor rest his hand on the back of his neck above the blanket. “I’m really glad you came over. You and Puffer.”

Loki hides his face in Thor’s neck and simply tries to focus on the warmth and comfort of their present position. He burrows and wraps himself around Thor and the cushions, maneuvering himself and micro-managing Thor’s limbs until at last he feels just right. There is a fair chance he will die of suffocation, but he is exquisitely comfortable.

They have a meandering discussion about watching a movie before settling upon A Room with a View starring Maggie Smith and Helena Bonham Carter. Thor starts the film on low volume with a few quick button presses and they both have another gulp of their hot chocolate before tucking back under the blanket.

Loki finds his attention drifting aimlessly from one sensation of warmth and comfort to another. As the film company’s logo disappears, he doubts he will even stay awake through the entire film. But as the opening credits roll, he realizes something awful.

“Dear god, we’re a couple of old gay men.” 

Thor snorts. “Don’t worry, you’ve got a few good years left,” he says, patting Loki’s rump.

“Aw!” Loki rises on his elbows to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry I called you old. What a _handsome_ silverback gorilla you are…”

Thor glares at him.

“Your crow’s feet are so dignified!”

“Loki…”

“And just look at your complexion: not a single sunspot yet.”

“It wasn’t easy turning thirty, you know.”

“And what lovely—OW! You don’t have to be so rough!”

“Serves you right.”

“You _hurt_ me, Daddy! Waaahh, come save me!”

“Loki, shut the fuck up,” Thor chuckles.

They cuddle throughout the film, Loki uncertain whether either of them is actually watching or simply enjoying the quiet and dozing. He fits well against Thor and they settle peaceably against flesh and couch, occasionally stirring just enough to exchange a few soft, lazy kisses. Loki rolls over and tucks his head under Thor’s chin, eases his hand beneath Thor’s briefs to gently, aimlessly stroke his half-hard cock. He finds his hand still cupped tenderly around it when he awakens the next morning.


	8. I Know You Wouldn't Hurt Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter.  
> Sunday. Sweater weather.
> 
> Also, your porn has arrived: They role play Father/son incest. Shocking, I know.

While Thor is still getting ready upstairs, Loki steps into Thor's empty kitchen dressed in a tight, emerald green long sleeve shirt that enhances his eyes and one pair of his collection of (exclusively) ass-hugging black jeans.

He follows his eyes to the fuzzy blobs of yellow and orange leaves through the bay window and opens one to taste the air. Delicious, fresh, crisp air hits him and he savors it as he observes the way the changing light of the season is already beginning to cast a dusky tint over everything, even on gentle-sunned late mornings.

He likes the color change now, but he's only ever hungry for the shadows and colors of dusk. He leans back on his heel, watching the light stream through the window and onto the typical decorations of a homey kitchen counter: a miniature bonsai tree, a bowl of apples, and an empty baby bottle.

Loki looks happily to the window and breathes deep the fresh, autumn air, stopping his lungs and trapping it there to savor the notes. Difficult to describe, but richer with the ideal proportion of moisture to temperature—it is beautiful, and it makes him smirk with perverse pleasure to consider that it is probably the scent of all the dying leaves and plants.

At that moment, his heart begins to feel as if it is shuddering in his chest, his limbs feel weak, and he crumples onto the hardwood floor, shivering as he tries to convince himself that Thor does **_not_** own a baby bottle.

It's difficult enough to give Thor the amount of trust entailed in transitioning from casual to _real and deeply intimate_ in such a short amount of time. Now Thor wants to take things a step further with a prop that makes him feel things for which he wasn't prepared: the associative meaning of the baby bottle is so potent, just the unexpected sight of it makes him feel as though his walls have lost to a wrecking ball and the rug was pulled out from under him, and suddenly he is vulnerable, scared, needy, _and_ little without forewarning.

He feels a dangerous burning sensation behind his lids and he tries to bring himself back down; he doesn't want to be found crying on the floor of anyone's kitchen, not even Thor's.

 _It was just an accident, Thor won't make me,_ he tells himself: _Thor won't feel differently about me if I won't use the bottle._

He hears Thor's footsteps in the bathroom above. His eyes sting, threatening to spill, as a wave of revulsion moves through him; he wants his fucking Daddy, but it's like he's back at square one and the thought of Thor seeing him being little at all is horrifying.

As though Thor doesn't already know! How stupid can this get?

Loki slowly rises to his feet, using the nearest chair for support. He clutches the backrest tightly as he stares, bleary-eyed, at Puffer sitting on the table. It's like Puffer has developed his own emotional gravitational pull. Loki's arms feel empty and his fingers itch to touch.

He pats his face dry with his sleeves and there is a dull pang of guilt in his chest when he realizes Puffer was left all alone in the dark last night. Puffer must be upset.

 _No one will see,_ he tells himself as pulls out the chair and sits. He will just put Puffer down when he hears Thor start walking down the stairs.

On an exhale, Loki reaches forward and enfolds the stuffed penguin in his arms, drawing him tightly against his chest and burying his nose in the side of his head. Tingles shoot from his skin deep into his chest, beneath the bones, and he shivers with relief.

He inhales, absorbing Puffer's scent, and some wordless part of him purrs when he finds no traces of Thor's smell or cologne; Puffer shouldn't bear Thor's traces.  
   
So soft, he gushes as his heart beat slows.  
  
The painful vulnerability and shame have been swept away; he is all warmth and comfort--even the idea of his Daddy watching him play with Puffer seems nice. But he is still glad to know this won't happen just yet, not until he is ready.

Loki sighs contentedly, nuzzling closer to the softness of his toy. Something so ultimately satisfying and reassuring... He denied himself this for seven years.

Feeling as though he is floating, he opens his eyes.

Thor is standing at the base of the stairs, his eyes locked on him.

He's standing there, staring, and wearing the _**S**_ weater.

There are a select few things that both flood Loki with fluttery, warm, and melty feelings _and_ make him crave cock. One is the sheer tenderness of Thor's honeyed Daddy Voice. Another is definitely this sweater.

The teasing photos Thor sent him last week did not prepare him.

The sweater in question is a gorgeous, rich burgundy that complements Thor's complexion, especially when the sunlight catches in the golden hair spilling down over his shoulders like right now. The fabric is a thick, open knit, the kind you can push tiny grains of uncooked rice through and it has a V-neck with a small, decorative twist at the bottom. It looks soft, warm, inviting, and just a touch outdated without appearing dorky when paired with those nice black pants.

The Sweater makes Thor look like a proper Papa.

Unconsciously, Loki cuddles Puffer closer and spreads his legs wider.  
  
It is then the shame and horror rip through him: he is holding Puffer. Thor saw.

Already sobbing, he shoves Puffer back onto the glass table and buries his face in hands.

~

Just finished grooming and dressing in a way he thinks will delight his babyboy, Thor is ready to take Loki out on their late morning outing. He needs to pick up a few things anyway and there is this cute shop where a local orchard sells its produce and various apple baked goods he thinks Loki will enjoy. But when Thor gets downstairs, he is met with a sight that makes his heart melt and his knees weak.

 _Loki,_ he's doing it, he's finally— _he's holding Puffer—his babyboy is bonding with his toy!_

Thor feels electrified with a burst of energy so sudden and strong he doesn't know what to do with it. He needs to get the camera— _no, this is 2015, he has a smartphone,_ he doesn't need—as weird as it sounds, _it's like his first steps!_ His heart keeps leaping in his chest, there is an electric current going through his veins, and he feels he will explode if he doesn't do something. He tries to quell some of the dizzying energy by clenching his fists, but— _breathe,_ man.

Thor closes his eyes and takes a long, deep breath, the sight of Loki cuddling Puffer at the end of the kitchen table still glowing in his mind. How would Loki feel about being photographed in this situation? Thor sadly nixes the idea; maybe one day Loki will consent to have his photo taken while he is little with Puffer, but for now Thor will have to burn the image into his mind.

Being openly ecstatic is not going to be well-received at this stage. Just be calm, supportive, warm, and patient.

When he opens his eyes again, he sees Loki bent forward and shaking, his face hidden behind his hair and his hands, and Puffer shoved rudely onto his back on the glass table. _Oh,_ Thor winces guiltily.

He walks over to him, mindful to make his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. He crouches beside Loki and gently places a hand on his knee; his babyboy is trembling, his legs are drawn together tightly, and the muscles beneath Thor's fingers are tense.

 _“Good morning, sweetness,”_ he says softly. _“Daddy is so happy to see you!_ Were you playing with Puffer just now?”

All he gets is a hurt-sound that barely makes its way past Loki's hands; Thor's heart clenches.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as he leans close to Loki. He brushes some of his hair out of the way and begins placing soft kisses on the back of his baby's hand.

“Feeling a little scared and embarrassed? Because Daddy saw you with Puffer? Don't be scared, it made Daddy so happy...”

He keeps kissing up and down his hand and down his arm until the shaking subsides and Loki's legs begin to relax.

He places a long kiss with a lot of suction on the back of Loki's hand, pulling off with a humorous 'pop'. It earns him a weak giggle and Thor settles closer, wrapping his arm around his babyboy's waist and nuzzling into his neck. Loki's body yields easily to him now.

“Daddy would love to watch you play with Puffer again sometime,” he says gently, “But I think Puffer might be feeling a little scared and hurt right now.”

Loki pulls his hands from his face to look at Puffer and reflexively reaches out to correct the slight to his beloved toy. But Thor's presence must be the overriding factor here, for Loki's hands snap back to his chest before he even touches Puffer.

“Can Daddy touch Puffer please?” Thor asks. At the nod—given more readily than yesterday!—Thor scoops Puffer up and sets him upright on his thigh, resting against his stomach. He gives Puffer a few strokes with his thumb. “I think Puffer misses you as much as you miss him.”

Loki worries his bottom lip between his teeth and he slides his hands up Thor's thigh, stopping just shy of Puffer's toes; as close as he can bear to get. Loki begins picking at the fabric of Thor's jeans.

Thor rises and nudges Loki so they can share the chair seat. Loki budges over, allowing Thor to sit rather awkwardly on his hip, but it brings them flush together which is what Thor wanted. He readjusts and now Puffer is sitting half on his lap and half on Loki's; physical contact without pressuring Loki to stick his neck out.

He wraps his free arm around his babyboy's shoulders. “Do you think Puffer would like a cuddle? Hmm?”

He watches as Loki shyly begins to rub Puffer's little, gray toes, then stroke his tummy—and then he snatches Puffer rather fiercely and wraps his arms protectively around him.

He still needs to hold his feelings in check, but he allows himself a proud smile as he strokes his babyboy's cheek. And he is proud, of Loki's progress as well as his work in helping him along. Loki is not openly playing with Puffer, but it's a full-armed embrace and Loki isn't even trying to conceal it, although the suspicious look Loki is giving him is rather adorable. Thor suppresses his chuckle and gives his shoulders an affectionate squeeze.

He has an idea.

He leans in to whisper in Loki's ear: “Why don't we make Puffer an igloo? Would Puffer like that, honey?”

Loki's eyes light up and Thor laughs when Loki grabs his hand and begins tugging him out of the chair, leading him towards the living room. They begin pulling couch and the blanket from last night from the couch and arranging them on the carpet beside the coffee table. As per tradition in Thor's knowledge of these matters, the blanket forms the “ceiling” of their little igloo. Given their height, it is impressive that they have managed to make a cushion igloo large enough for them to both lie down in, especially when they have a little over a foot of space between them.

Thor may or may not have bought extra couch cushions just for such serious activities.

Leaning on his elbow, Thor watches as Loki finally begins to cuddle Puffer rather earnestly. Loki is lying half on his side, facing away from Thor, but he can see some of what is happening over Loki's shoulder. He hangs back although it's adorable and sweet and Thor cannot keep the grin off his face as he watches his babyboy with his favorite toy; he wants to be involved, but he wants that to happen when Loki does too. It's a little difficult to restrain himself when Loki keeps making him gush—he keeps casting shy, little glances at him over his shoulder in between nuzzling and playing with Puffer.

Thor sighs as he watches, his chest full of warmth as he hopes Loki will try the bottle. There is nothing sweeter, more tender, or more fulfilling to the Daddy in him than holding his sweetie, pliant and placid in his arms, as he lets Daddy feed him this way. He pictures Loki drowsy and tucked up against his chest, hands holding onto his sweater, contentedly drinking from the bottle Thor holds to his lips. Just the two of them in some cozy, tranquil corner: Daddy in control and nurturing, his little accepting; trusting; submitting.

His heart gushes and his cock throbs; how deeply comfortable Loki would have to be to willingly give up his autonomy, to become reliant on his Daddy.

He readjusts the crotch of his pants for some much-needed space, and that's before he's considered how divine Loki looks with his lips stretched around— _be patient._

But if Loki let him bottle-feed him, it would be like he was all Thor's.

Thor reaches out and tenderly strokes a lock of Loki's hair. Not _his_ babyboy yet, he reminds himself.

He is drawn from his train of thought as he realizes Loki is staring at him.

“What's up, baby?” Thor asks softly.

Loki watches him carefully for a moment longer as though considering, and then reaches out and tugs at his sweater.

_“Daddy.”_

Thor's eyes flutter shut and he has to take a breath—just the _way_ he said it—

“Yeah, baby? What's up?” he asks gently, trying to keep his emotional response concealed to avoid overwhelming Loki.

Loki just tugs more forcefully at his sweater. Thor scoots over to lie beside him and Loki rolls over and tucks right up against him, sandwiching Puffer between their stomachs.

_Oh, sweetie..._

Thor wraps one arm around his babyboy and the other he places over Loki's on Puffer's belly.

~

It's a cute, old-fashioned store Thor drives them to on a decidedly agrarian road less than ten minutes from his apartment. The first thing they do upon leaving the car is order coffee: an espresso for Loki, and something with so much hazelnut syrup for Thor that Loki's expression curdles. But it is a quaint spot, Loki decides as he sips his espresso and perfectly conceals his emotional response to the realization that they have a petting zoo across the street.

One of the rather immediate effects of engaging with his little-self is being able to hear those wants and needs with inconvenient clarity. _Damn Thor._ After all the years of distancing himself from this aspect of himself, being suddenly subject to all these little-wants is uncomfortable, even if he is less stressed out about it than before.

The sweater isn't helping.

Loki pretends to be a normal, well-adjusted person as he tries to be interested in the variety of all things fruit-mash, paste, and juice on the shelves of the store. Thor is in the pastry section when Loki gives up and walks over to him. Thor smiles at him when he comes over and wraps an arm around his waist. He makes small-talk about the store's selection while Loki wages an internal fight with his feelings about being in direct contact with said garment.

Yet instead of shame, he feels oddly as though he is warm and safe; how far he has come in two days.

He manages to pay enough attention to Thor to voice his agreement on the topic of apple dumplings and Thor places two of them in their basket.

“You look beautiful in that sweater, Thor,” he says casually, quite certain he is blushing.

Thor gives him that smile which makes him appear to be glowing from the inside. “Thank you, honey,” he says, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips. “I wore it for you.”

Loki betrays no trace of his internal grumblings. Stupid sweater and stupid Thor being terrible and nice and making his knees feel like jelly—

“It's a little warm here, though. I kind of want to take it off—“

_“NO DON'T—!”_

Loki says in a normal speaking voice.

To the entire store.

“We should get—” he looks to where he reflexively started pointing, “apple cider. We should get that instead.”

It's an _awful_ sweater, Loki gushes as he scowls.

He would probably scowl more if he noticed the way Thor was grinning at him, but his attention is suddenly wholly diverted to the contents of the apple cider refrigerator. Beside the gallons and quarts of apple cider, there are—

Small, apple-shaped cider _sippy cups_.  
  
“Would you like one of the sippy cups?” Thor murmurs kindly in his ear.

_“Hnnnngh.”_

“Okay, honey,” Thor says, smiling as he puts a quart and a sippy cup into their basket. “Is there anything else you would like?”

Loki glances about, grateful for some even momentary diversion, and plucks a McIntosh apple from the bin.

Thor grabs a few more things before getting into the checkout line and Loki follows, silently alternating between trying to accept what he is feeling and distract himself from it. As they approach the register, they are confronted with a counter laden with the incredibly cheap, last-minute purchase items like gum and old fashioned lollipops.

Loki watches Thor consider the packs of gum: cinnamon, classic bubblegum, and sweetmint. He raises one eyebrow as Thor grabs three of each and places them in the basket.

Thor glances over at him and sees Loki's look.

“I have a problem and I'm not ready to talk about it,” Thor mumbles with a grimace tinged with a bit of amusement. Loki snorts and lets it go, for now; endearing blackmail he can consider later. He then manages to distract Thor long enough to slip his credit card to the cashier before Thor realizes what is happening.

“It was going to be my treat, you didn't have to do that,” Thor says with just a bit of a pout.

“But you're making a very important contribution, Thor: you're picking things up and putting them down,” he snickers as he struts past him to the car.

Thor's laughter is part amusement, part chagrin by the sound of it, and he gives him a fond smack on the ass when he catches up to him.

They get to the car and Thor drives across the road to park in the lot for the petting zoo. For a moment, Loki is alarmed, thinking Thor means to bring little-stuff into this normal time they have together, but no, Thor just parks at a corner with a nice view overlooking an apple orchard below.

Loki is relieved to find, it is easier to ignore the petting zoo behind him this time, the little-part of him quieter now, and he opens his window to enjoy the crisp October air while they eat.

He accepts the apple dumpling and cider sippy cup from Thor. He unscrews the green, sipper “stem” of the sippy cup and takes a mouthful of fresh apple cider before tucking it away in favor of the pastry. The first bite of apple dumpling is warm and sweet on his tongue; it's not an entire apple baked in thick dough, but something akin to apple pie filling inside a mildly sweet, soft wrapping of pastry dough.

He hums his approval and devours the whole thing, licking the last of the powdered sugar off his fingers with pleasure.

“Not interested in your sippy cup?” Thor asks.

Loki cleans the crumbs from under his nails, shrugging. “Later, when I feel like being little.”

He can feel Thor's gaze on him and it is irritating. Loki leers at him, only to realize there are little smears of nutmeg and sugar around his lips. The sight makes Loki reflexively wipe his own mouth but he gives no hint to Thor of the state of his face. But still, the weight of his gaze is making his hair stand on end.

“What is it?” he asks very softly. Is Thor trying to lead this into yet more Daddy-little time or is he overthinking?

“Nothing,” Thor shrugs. “You just said 'when I feel like being _little,'_ not 'babyboy.' Was that unintentional or did you have a change of heart?”

Loki purses his lips and glares out the window. It was fine until Thor decided to analyze it.

“I didn't know you paid such attention to such _little_ things,” he deflects in a quiet voice.

Thor raises a hand peaceably and returns to munching on his apple dumpling.

“I could do a better job than those farmhouse hacks,” Loki comments in a friendlier tone of voice. “Mix the apple slices with pear slices, maybe slather goat cheese or brie over the inside of the dough so it combines a little with the sugar sauce as it bakes.”

Thor moans into his apple dumpling. “I think I'm going to need to work out more often.”

That makes Loki grin. “Mm, between working out in your home gym, working out in the bedroom, entertaining a gorgeous graphic designer, and chasing a little around, you might not sleep much.”

Thor stops mid-bite and stares at him again.

“You did it again.”

“So shut up about it.”

But he knows that smile now plastered on Thor's face. Thor finishes his dumpling, licking the sugar off his fingers and leaning close.

“Is my _little_ trying to tell me something?” he purrs in his ear.

Loki bites back the low-blow _'not your anything yet'_ on his tongue.

_Communicate; just fucking do it._

“What might Volstagg do with your nickname for your penis?” he says instead.

Thor's mouth drops open a bit, his brows furrowing as he tries to decide how seriously to take this from Loki.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” he continues. “Volstagg the friend close enough to give you house-warming gifts, or Volstagg your only real competition for best ticket sales of the year bonus? Which one would surface in that instance?”

“Loki,” Thor says levelly, “This is not what I consider a funny jab. At least I'm not in the mood to take it as one at present, okay?”

Loki purses his lips and begrudgingly—silently—accepts. He places his hand on Thor's thigh and gives him an affectionate squeeze in place of an admission. Thor nods, smiling.

“I'm enjoying us just being 'us' now,” Thor begins slowly, “but I did want to hear your thoughts about Puffer this morning. And...how am I doing as a Daddy?”

Loki doesn't know why, but the question makes something inside him squirm and he can't discern what it means.

“I see...how your caretaking fills in where my self-care skills fall short,” he allows carefully.

_Or never existed._

He feels Thor squeeze his hand; it is not the safe things Thor wants, but the whole and honest ones.

He laughs to himself.

“This weekend is, if nothing else, a trial period poorly planned by two kinky people, one of whom is an optimist, the other flagrantly not. Going forward means giving you yet more trust, voluntarily lowering my walls, and...committing to not use my ability to conceal my needs from you. Always.”

It's not a procedure he can order and have done with, but an uncomfortable action he must continually enact until at last it feels natural. Until it is no longer an action but a state.

“We are not lifestylers, it would never be as intense as a 24/7 situation,” Thor reminds him softly. “We'd have a lot of time just being our regular selves together; balance.”

“But I'll have to look at you afterward. I will see you again and each time you or I open the door, I must look you in the eye and say 'hello' to you as though I'm not afraid you will sap the moisture from my mortar and leave me to crumble.”

He holds Thor's gaze, his trust and his challenge both plain: one held ransom until the other is met.

Thor bites his lip, his brow furrowed slightly as he offers, “I can only promise you I am very interested in the chance to see where this goes...”

“I'm not asking for absurd promises!” he snaps, disgusted with himself at the mere thought Thor would think he would ask for such things so early. He may be needy, but not enough to regularly act upon it! But Thor squeezes his hand as he would someone who is afraid.

“I know. And I'm not asking you to decide and commit, I'm asking you how I'm doing on my half.”

 _Fine; damnably excellent and everything I want,_ he doesn't say.

“I suppose Baldr was a big crybaby, huh?” he mutters.

Thor is silent, in what he assumes is sympathy. But when Loki glances over at him—the oaf's mouth is turned down and he's shaking, struggling to suppress smiles and laughter.

“You dick!” he screeches, slapping his shoulder and pinching him none too gently. “No one gave you permission to be funny!” Loki snaps.

“Aw, honey!” Thor says chuckling. “If I became a comedian, would you come to every show?”

Loki thinks for a fraction of a second. “I'd come see your show if you were booked at the theater in Balarat.”

“That's awfully specific.”

“There's an orchestra pit in front of the stage.”

“Okay...”

“Which they never tell performers about.”

Ignoring his jab or simply being too cheerful to be annoyed, Thor wraps an arm around him and drags him close, nearly forcing Loki's hip to merge with the gearshift.  
  
“Look at you, hoping I'll achieve worldwide fame!” Thor chirps.

Scowling, Loki lets himself be manhandled and glares into the bit of sweater engulfing the tip of his nose.

Stupid sweater.

“Do you want to know why everyone at work is going ballistic?” he asks.

~

“But,” Thor interrupts, “I thought you liked Sigyn.”

“That was last year, things change.”

“You told me she came to the company two months ago!”

Loki glares at him. “I'm editing as I go and you're _surprised?”_

Smiling, Thor shakes his head, and turns his open palm towards the sky.

“When a client company wants advertizing, they give my company their criteria and my team starts working on sample images. That Friday during our daily meeting, my team was presenting our prototype test images. The head of the team evaluates the congruence between said test images and what the company wants, then tells each of us, respectively, to keep going in that direction or light our work on fire.

“And?” Thor prods.

“My test images may or may not have all contained a revolting degree of grime and contamination imagery.”

“That doesn’t sound terrible.”

“As well as the face of one of our most insufferable employees, edited onto the model's body in every one,” Loki says slowly. “And I may have forgotten she was in the room.”

Thor chuckles. “I shouldn’t be laughing…”

“She’s an annoying, nervous twat. No one on my team likes her. Editing her stupid face into our unflattering test photos is a tradition on my team. But she was so recently transferred to my team, I just…forgot to edit my images.”

“That doesn't sound like something worth all that upset and Human Resources.”

“That's because,” Loki says quietly, “it didn't.

“Three of the supervisors in my department will be considering me for promotion in about three months, which I wasn't worried about; do you know how much lead paint it takes to make my nose this white? But last month, a _Ms. Romanoff_ was transferred from administration to fill the vacancy after one of the former supervisors went on paternity leave. Ms. Romanoff is...difficult.”

“She doesn't like you.”

“Why was that your first guess?” he gasps, clutching his pearls. “Wise of her. Unwise of her to be having an affair with the president of our main competitor, Alfheim Co.”

“How did you discover this?” Thor asks carefully.

“I hacked her email,” he answers sweetly.

“And I suppose 'Ms. Romanoff' decided to come clean by writing an open letter to the company admitting her affair?”

“That or she chose to forward all of her lover's emails to two department heads and random peons, plus a rather direct invitation to her boss to join her in a threesome.”

He looks over at Thor to see him laughing even as he massages his brow.

“So they want to meet with you because of Sigyn, Ms. Romanoff, and Alfheim,” he murmurs. “What you get up to in your free time...”

Loki shakes his head. “They just want to meet with me about Sigyn.”

Thor stares at him. “So they don't know you have any connection to—“

“And it will stay that way.”

Thor gives him a smile that seems somehow indulgent, exasperated, and impressed.

“So...you could really screw up my life if you chose to,” he surmises.

Shrugging, Loki gives him his most charming smile

“Only if I stopped being your favorite.”

~

“There is another conversation you want us to have,” Loki states after they have both been quiet for a little while.

It takes Thor a moment to get the hint, but when he does he leans back in the driver's seat with a sigh. “I'm sorry I left the bottle out. I thought it would be less threatening if I wasn't holding it when you saw it the first time.”

Loki laughs coldly. “It made me feel desperate enough to seek comfort from Puffer,” he offers.

Thor's face falls. “You didn't touch him because you wanted to, because you felt ready?”

“Oh, I wanted to; it was just due to _desperation.”_

Thor's chin dips towards his chest and his shoulders slump; Loki smiles.

“Did I push you too hard?” Thor asks quietly. Very quietly. So quietly something about it makes something in Loki's chest feel like it is snapping and he just wants to hit him.

“You _want_ the epitome of what terrifies me,” he says as he crosses his arms. “I don't want to feel like I have to protect myself from you.”

“You say that like I'm trying to assault you!” Thor cries, jerking as though he's been hit.

“I don't want to feel like I have to protect myself from you,” Loki repeats.

Thor stares at him, his brows furrowed and his mouth hanging open.

“It wouldn't make a difference knowing it was your Daddy feeding you? Your Daddy keeping you safe and warm?”

“Dependent and vulnerable.”

“Honoring your trust, cherishing your submission!” Thor challenges. “It's like breastfeeding!”

There is an awkward silence.

Thor sighs, collecting himself. “It's just so _tender,_ this symbolic act of meeting your most basic need where I get to hold you and look after you like you're precious. I don't think you see that.”

Loki looks away, out the window at—nothing. There's nothing here; it's a god damn apple orchard.

“It makes my heart flutter just thinking of you giving me that,” Thor says softly.

He stares at this one apple tree, heavy with fruit, and a family of five collecting their harvest into their wooden basket. The mother is chasing the toddler around and around the base of the tree, but she is smiling.

“Do you know why I love being your Daddy?”

“Because I'm a screamer.”

“No, although I enjoy that!” Thor laughs as he unfolds Loki's arms, taking his hand. “I love being your Daddy because nurturing you, comforting you, and making your hurts all better—all of that feels as good to me as pinning you to the floor and ramming my dick up your ass.”

“What a romantic,” Loki scoffs.

“Maybe I love nurturing you a little more than that. You don't like that I want to do that with you?”

“I do,” Loki allows, his stomach lurching at the thought of himself in that position; at the possibility that he will like it; at the knowledge that he will.

“It's—dangerous.”

Thor strokes his thumb over his knuckles. “I will help you to feel safe and comfortable wi—“

“But what if you do?” Loki asks, his voice suddenly breaking. He looks him in the eye and it is when Thor frowns that he knows he is crying.

“I don't want you to,” he whispers.

Thor cups the back of his neck and presses their foreheads together.

“I know,” he murmurs.

_“I don't want you to.”_

“I know.”

Loki squeezes his eyes shut.

_“Do it anyway.”_

~

They are in the rocking chair in the living room, Loki perched sideways upon Thor's lap so his shoulder is against Thor's chest. Despite the comfortable position, his heart is beating too quickly and he feels his insecurities coiling his stomach, but he allows Thor to wrap his arms around him and pull him closer.

Ever considerate, Thor shows the bottle to him first. From base to tip, it is seven inches tall. The nipple is made of a sheer, yellow plastic, with a narrow tip and a wide base where it anchors into the blue screw-on cap. The bottle itself is a shiny cylinder of clear plastic with a line measuring volume in ounces on one side and milliliters on the other.

The bottle is almost full with thick, white milk.

At least he thinks it's milk. He hopes Thor took pity on him for his first time and filled the bottle with one of his vanilla protein shakes instead.

He feels a sharp pang of longing in his chest and he wants to recoil. The bottle, the Daddy Sweater, and the rocking chair—he can't _not_ feel little here even though he wants to go back to the car beside the orchard.

Thor soothingly cards his fingers through his hair. Loki swallows as a stinging sensation springs up behind his eyes.

Did Thor have to wear the sweater for this?

Thor rests the bottle against Loki's stomach and Loki remains still despite the clenching in his belly.

“Shh, shhhh.” Thor kisses his hair. “Daddy’s got you.”

Loki bites his lip as the stinging in his eyes becomes burning. He squeezes his eyelids shut but he can feel the wetness just beginning to escape through the cracks.

And the fucking rocking chair.

He's shocked at how very much _too soon_ it feels when the plastic nipple presses against his lips. Loki jolts, pulling backwards, and a loud sob erupts from his throat.

The nipple is between his lips, sitting against the tip of his tongue; it's inside him, he can't undo this. He begins to shake.

“Baby, we don't have to, _we don't have to,”_ Thor reminds him urgently, pulling the bottle away.

_We do._

Grim-faced, Loki grabs the bottle and pulls it back to his mouth, some masochistic urge to hurt himself instead of the self-acceptance for which he should strive. He takes the nipple back between his teeth and forces himself to suck. It begins flowing over his tongue—and he almost chokes.

It isn't a protein shake.

Hot tears roll down his face as it pours into his mouth.

He didn't want to want this.

“Sweetie?” Daddy asks, uncertain, his hand hovering in the air, ready to take the bottle away if he could just decide what is better for Loki.

It's warm. He shivers, stomach clenching.

His Daddy _warmed_ it for him.

His heart hurts as he swallows the first mouthful. Warm, thick milk slides down his throat, reaching deeper inside and pooling in his belly; it's already inside, he is already changed by it. It feels good and it is awful and lovely and he cannot stop it.

A fresh gush of tears. He didn't want to want this.

He feels warm, thick arms wrap more tightly around him, lips pressing kisses to his temple.

“It's okay, baby, Daddy's here, Daddy won't let go of you.”

“Never?” he sputters around the nipple in his mouth.

The arms tighten around him. _“Never.”_

Thor begins stroking his hair, sending warmth and tingling sensations down to his toes. He feels Thor's arms and hands sliding over him, squeezing and petting while he continues to kiss the tender spot between his brows.

“You can stop anytime, love. Daddy will keep holding you no matter what,” Thor murmurs. “I promise.” He begins to hum a lullaby and gently rock the chair.

Loki shivers, reflexively snuggling closer to his Daddy, his sweater, his cologne. He doesn't want to hold the bottle anymore and he lets it drop from his hands.

Thor rubs his back and checks him over. “How does it feel, sweetie?” he asks. “Do you like it?”

It takes a long moment to muster the will to meet his eye; he nods, shivering.

“Then can Daddy feed you?”

More prickling behind his eyes, but he nods again, looking away.

“Will you please get me Puffer?” he asks quietly.

Thor promptly leans over and retrieves Puffer from the side table. He places the toy on Loki's lap and runs his hands over him, making concerned sounds at the goosebumps he finds.

“It's all right, sweetie, Daddy will take care of you,” he says as he pulls out a blanket and tucks it around Loki.

It's warm and fuzzy; his eyelids begin to droop.

This time when Thor picks up the bottle, he doesn't feel afraid so much as simply vulnerable; tender.

“My babyboy has been very brave,” Thor says. “We can always stop if you need to, just let Daddy know, okay?”

He feels Thor giving him a fond squeeze and then the plastic nipple is gently pressing between his lips. He shivers both inside and out and lets it in.

 _“Good boy,”_ Daddy praises as he closes his lips around the nipple.

His heart flutters and he sags slightly against Thor, his eyelids all but shut as he sucks. It feels better when his Daddy holds the bottle, and he hooks one hand into the neck of his sweater.

“You're doing _so_ well,” Thor whispers against his forehead. “Daddy is so proud of you!”

His body is tingling everywhere. His eyes drift completely shut as he basks in the slow, feather-light kisses Daddy places on his forehead while he drinks. Thor makes the soft shushing sounds Loki likes so much as he strokes his hair, and Loki tucks himself a little closer.

 _“Hello, my babyboy,”_ Thor murmurs as he strokes his cheek with his thumb. Loki can tell Thor is beaming, the tone in his voice telltale accompaniment for the way the skin around his eyes crinkles handsomely whenever Loki's done something especially good. The sun is probably catching in the strands of hair flowing loosely over his shoulders as he rocks the chair back and forth.

His heart flutters. Loki shifts and resettles quietly in his Daddy's lap, the side of his hip now pressed against—

His eyes snap open. Thor **_really_** likes bottle feeding.

He releases the nipple and the bit of milk he had in his mouth spills down over his chin. Thor makes a sympathetic sound and begins wiping the milk away with his thumb. Loki stares up at him, his heart leaping at the sight of his Daddy's heavy, half-lidded eyes never wavering from his as he licks his thumb clean.

The warm honey feeling inside seems to pour down into his groin.

When Thor is done cleaning him, he offers the bottle again. Loki continues staring as he slowly closes his lips around the tip and begins to suck once more.

He pulls off and bites his lower lip, a thrum of pleasure racing through his belly when Thor's gaze follows the movement.

“Finish your bottle, sweetie,” Thor rumbles, pushing the nipple back between his lips with some force. “Daddy needs to make sure you get the nutrients you need...especially when you've been so...sick. Lately.”

Loki obediently continues drinking his bottle, his head tilted thoughtfully to the side as he watches Thor.

He thought his Daddy's eyes were blue; now they are black and his hand is gripping Loki's thigh like an iron band.

~

 _“So hot with the god damn bottle,”_ Thor rasps against his lips. “You don't even understand...”

Loki mewls into his mouth as Thor presses him harder into the wall. His legs are wrapped around his waist, his muscles at once clenching for purchase and straining for a wider spread for the sake of the hand shoved into his pants as his Daddy stuffs him with a fourth finger—lubed with olive oil of all things because Thor's patience went out the window the second he showed off a mouthful of milk.

“Who owns this, little boy?” Thor growls as he jabs his fingers into his prostate.

 _“Daddy does,”_ Loki gasps. His heart is fluttering from his Daddy's possessive clutching and manhandling, and they are pressed together so tightly he can feel Thor's pulse in the throbbing cock embedded in his asscheek.

“Good boy.” Thor kisses him again and sucks his tongue deep into his mouth, his fingers never stilling deep inside.

“Daddy, mmh!” he whines, wrapping his arms tighter around those big shoulders. “Daddy, _please!”_

With a grunt, Thor tips him forward and carries him into the bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot and too busy kissing him to look where he is going.

As Loki is thrown onto the bed, he realizes his first time is going to be with his Daddy.

He lands heavily, legs splayed, with just enough time to register the sudden freedom of movement before Thor bears down and traps him. Thor wraps his arms around him, the girth of them pressing Loki upwards against his chest as he grinds his hips between his spread legs.

“Imagine how happy Daddy was when he overheard you in your room… Left the door open as you touched yourself, hoping Daddy would hear,” Thor murmurs, mouthing at the tender outer shell of his ear as he pulls the lube and condoms from the bedside table and drops them on the duvet.

“Tell Daddy what you were moaning when he found you in your room, baby,” he rumbles, breaking away only long enough to unzip his pants.

The pants fall to the floor and Thor steps out of them, his hands coming away to reveal that Daddy is big all over. Not just big—thick, his cock heavy with blood, hanging forward with the wet tip kissing Loki's knee. But he leaves his sweater on.

 _Papa_ —Loki's eyelids flutter.

His legs spread wider of their own accord as his Daddy descends to take his mouth again, his hands straying under his shirt as he feels up his own son.

“Tell Daddy what you were moaning in your room, baby. I want to hear it again,” Thor mumbles into his neck before subjecting it to the same treatment that already has Loki’s lips swollen and red.

Loki jolts, whining and writhing. “Ta-touch me, Daddy, right here, I need you, I—“

“Right here?” Thor squeezes Loki’s stiff cock through his jeans. “Daddy's been waiting so long, and today when he heard his baby moaning his name, fuck...”

Loki whimpers, bucking, but he freezes when he hears the telltale metallic sounds of the zipper.

“Daddy—? I'm nervous.”

“Because I’m your Daddy? Yeah, and your Daddy loves you,” Thor rasps against his throat. Thor’s hands squeeze his thighs like manacles before sliding up to palm his ass again. _“So much,”_ Thor groans as though struck.

The hand on his fly doesn’t move, but Daddy kisses his hair and says to him quite sweetly, “What’s wrong, baby? You’re safe; you’re in Daddy’s hands now.”

Loki shivers. With those hands, who needs handcuffs?

“What’s gotten my baby all shaken up? Talk to Daddy,” Thor croons.

“I’m—a virgin.”

‘Virgin.’ A powerful word, attached to notions of the sacred, the unitiated, the pure. A word evoking sentiments to gentleness and tenderness, a word with almost magical power, a way to say 'no' that won't be refused. A virgin is one who must be treated sweetly, initiated gently; given patience and time and choices.

A word so powerful, it makes his Daddy’s eyelids flutter, his big shoulder slump, and his mouth grow slack; makes his strong arms weak; makes him lie quietly as though the wind was knocked out of him even as his cock throbs against Loki's belly.

So powerful it makes Thor rip Loki's pants in half.

It all goes straight to Loki’s cock: the sudden flexing of every arm muscle Thor has as he shreds the garment from waistband to crotch; the animal focus on his face as he pulls each shredded pant leg off.

Thor descends upon him, hands on his shirt hem, and Loki struggles with a frightened cry. Thor forcibly wedges himself between his legs and knocks his hands away as he bullies his way in, his hands shoving and tugging Loki's shirt off his body.

“Let Daddy touch you, sweetie,” Thor says with a feverish sweetness that makes Loki shiver as he pins his arms. “Daddy's been waiting so long...” he moans, mouthing at all the newly revealed, pristine skin.

“You like it when your Daddy kisses you this way?” he rumbles. He bites down on the side of Loki's neck, the sensation and possessive rush overwhelming him, to the point he cannot hope to even think—he can't answer his Daddy's question. But he feels Thor's hands tighten around his wrists like manacles and he realizes his Daddy doesn't care, he's going to have him anyway.

 _Fuck,_ Loki thinks as he tries to spread his legs even wider.

Thor takes his babyboy's wrists down with one hand as he grabs the lube. He uncaps the top and makes a slick mess of his hand before pressing a finger back into his baby's boy-cunt.

God, he's searing hot inside; Thor shivers as he thrusts in, subconsciously obeying the instinct to get deeper even if his cock isn't involved.

“Oh, _fuck,”_ Thor groans as he stares down at his hand: suddenly four fingers stuffed up to the last, shining knuckle inside his babyboy’s little hole. He’s so close, he’s about to have all of him, his first time.

Thor reaches for a foil-wrapped condom. He’s about to tear it open with his teeth when he feels a tug on the hem of his sweater. He looks down, wondering if Loki wants to play it so he has to pin him to the bed to get what he wants or—

“Daddy, please,” Loki implores with pretty, flushed cheeks and wide eyes, “I want—I want _you,_ not that.”

Thor follows his babyboy's gaze to the condom in his hand. He recalls their test results two weeks ago, both of them clean of everything.

He moans as he drops the condom on the floor. His babyboy's first time with his Daddy this way and he wants the whole thing, his _Daddy_ pressed flush against him, nothing in between. The floor seems to shift beneath his feet. _Baby._

Thor withdraws his fingers from the hot squeeze of his babyboy's pure, virgin hole and spreads plenty of lube over his cock. He drops the bottle on the bed and positions himself so the bare, weeping tip of his cock is kissing Loki's hole and leans over to whisper in his ear.

“Gonna be a good boy for Daddy?” His cock is throbbing against his entrance.

“Yes, Daddy,” Loki whispers.

“Gonna let your own Daddy steal your virginity and make you his?”

 _“Yes, Daddy, please,”_ Loki whines.

He feels Loki’s arms slip from his grip and he clumsily tries to recapture them, to crush his resistance and impose his rule, but Loki only wraps his arms around his shoulders; whispers _No, no, I was already yours—_

 _Fuck_ —Thor understands the gesture now and kisses him for his submission. What a sweet, darling thing he's about to ruin. And bare, his own foreskin rubbing against his baby's insides as he taints his purity.

Thor digs his free hand between Loki's back and the sheets and presses, forcing his hips to tilt upward, offering up his hole for Thor to better take.

“Think you have a choice?” he asks sweetly, and plunges in to the hilt.

Loki's answering yowl is just as sweet as the wet heat clenching him from root to tip, making Thor's eyes roll before he can regain his bearings enough to fuck. Without a latex barrier, Loki sheer heat startles him; not just searing, but tighter, sweeter, and Thor groans, pressing further, not waiting for his babyboy to adjust. He's going to be rough, he is going to take him. He is the depraved sort of father who lusts after his own, underage son, and today he's just depraved enough to have him the way he wants. His head is floating on his high and the squeals coming from below and he grabs his pale hips for better control, thrusting long and deep.

Too soon. He feels his babyboy squirming underneath him, the note of distress in his plea, “Daddy, it’s too big, it’s too— _Daddy, please!”_

Loki is smothered and pinned, dizzy from his Daddy’s weight, the lips stopping his breathing, and the rush of _goodness_ he’s subjected to with every smooth thrust of bare skin on skin. His Daddy pushes in again and there is nothing he can do about it. Loki moans into Thor’s mouth, squeezes him tighter and closer with his limbs, welcoming all his Daddy wants to give him.

Thor pulls away, momentarily too absorbed in the act, and Loki manages a gulp of air.

“Daddy, you’re too big, please, I can’t—“ He tries to wriggle backwards and away but Thor follows, keeping himself fully sheathed despite Loki's attempts to escape— _fuckyes, fuckyes._

Thor growls, slowly pulling out until the head is all that’s inside. “Can’t what? Daddy can’t have his baby?”

He slams back in, throwing all of his weight behind it, making both the bed and Loki scream.

Dizzily, Loki’s hands scrabble over Thor’s back, seeking more of him, wanting to trap him so he will never leave. But Thor pulls out and drags Loki on top of him on the bed, manhandling him until he is straddling his hips, his tender ass poised above his cockhead. Before Loki can breathe, Thor pulls him roughly back down onto it, gripping his hips like iron bands as Loki screams. It feels bigger this way, he thinks, biting his lip, the swollen, spongy tissue filling him up so well—and then Thor starts slamming him up and down on his cock.

“Daddy!” he screams, “Daddy, I--” He doesn't even know what he's blathering, he just needs something to hold onto. His hands settle on clutching Thor's wrists for dear life.

“Daddy's going to fuck you until you can't even remember what virginity means. Daddy's gonna come deep inside you and seal it in with a plug, keep it all inside until he's ready to take you again, keeping you loose like a backalley whore for him as he keeps filling you until he doesn't need lube anymore to fuck you.”

Loki mewls at his Daddy's words, this talk of degradation turning making all the warmth inside feel like wildfire. Instinctively, he tries to bear down, wanting to be kept loose and open for his Daddy's use, his little cumdumpster, his personal whore.

Thor sits up and moves them to the edge of the bed, where he pulls Loki off his cock and turns him around so his back is against Thor's sweater. He guides his cock back in and pulls Loki close. “Wrap your arms around my neck, baby.”

Loki does, interlocking his fingers behind his Daddy's head as Thor rises to his feet, the tip of his bare cock still inside him. Thor's wraps a hand around each thigh and pushes all the way back in— _oh, fuck me, Daddy,_ it’s even deeper.

Thor turns around, showing Loki their reflection in the full-length mirror beside the bed: his big hands manacling his thighs, forcing them wide as Thor’s bare, huge cock plunges through the swollen, pink rim of his hole; displaying all of Loki's private places, the balls drawn up tight, and long, swollen, pale cock weeping near his navel; showing Loki how he's given it up to his own Daddy instead of fucking a man who would make love to him, not like this possessive claiming.

But it's done now, his virginity taken by the man who demanded him first, who will take him last and always.

Loki catches his face in the mirror, the bloody flush on his cheeks, the heavy lids over dark eyes, strings of spit connecting his lips as his mouth hangs wide in a mindless moan. God, he doesn’t even know how it _fits—_

Thor has caught him staring, grins darkly against the pale skin of his bruised neck. “Look at your tiny hole taking Daddy’s cock. You want the cock that made you? You need Daddy inside you so badly, you’d let Daddy knock you up, let him pour his cum inside you until you were carrying a piece of him inside all the time.”

Loki is almost screaming; he would, he would give him everything he wanted, his Daddy—

“Baby, I think I just heard the garage door opening. It must be Mommy coming up the stairs. She’s going to come in here and discover Daddy loves his baby more than her, isn’t she?”

 _Fuck yeah, she is,_ Loki thinks with a spike of jealousy. But it melts away as he feels his Daddy's lips on his cheek and his hand on his cock; now Loki is definitely screaming. He tries to bear down into Thor's thrusts, to get more of him, he's almost there. _“Daddy just can’t keep his cock to himself when his baby’s around,”_ Thor croons into his ear, thrusting in time with his stroking, reducing Loki to a writhing, whimpering mess in his arms.

 _“Daddy's been waiting so long,”_ Thor murmurs sweetly against his cheek. “Let Daddy see his little sweetie come, baby, do it for Daddy...”

Oh, fuck, that fucking voice turning everything inside to warm honey while his hand is around his dick, his Daddy's hung cock stuffed inside, and he can't look away from it plunging into him in the mirror—

“Daddy, I'm—hahn—“

“There's my good boy! Show Daddy your load, sweetie!”

Loki wails, a cascade of white lights and tingling pouring from his crown to his toes and his cock spurts high onto his chest as his body clenches down.

“Fuck, you're a very good— _ffuh,”_ Thor moans, thrusting faster back and forth into the tight squeeze until his balls are slapping against skin. His hands tighten around him as his mouth gapes in a strangled groan and Loki feels it, hot and shooting into him for the first time.

Moaning as his cock pumps out the last of his cum, Thor falls heavily back onto the bed, his hands still gripping Loki tightly as they struggle for breath. As the afterglow sets in, Loki presses his hips down against the base of Thor's softening cock, unwilling for him to leave yet; Thor cups his hands around his pelvis, presses up.

~

Thor's eyes are closed, his attention centered deep within. He feels the warmth of the setting sun's rays creeping across his skin and Loki's body curled up against his front. His back is resting against the headboard and his arms are wrapped around Loki, one draped around his waist, his free hand cradling Loki's face against his chest as though to remind him where home is.

Quiet breathing, the occasional sigh.

Loki shifts his hand a little, and Thor feels wet heat engulf his index and middle fingers. His eyes slide open and he looks down to find Loki serene and quiet, holding his fingers in his mouth like a pacifier.

Thor watches, his lungs caught on one breath, as he dimly realizes his heart can both swell and melt at the same time.

Loki lets the fingers slip from his mouth. He looks up at Thor.

_“Daddy.”_

Thor swallows and offers his fingers for Loki's consideration. Loki takes them inside again until they have disappeared past the second knuckle and settles back against his chest.

 _“Baby,”_ he answers, his chest tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Whatever You May](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWBL9W0D604), the gorgeous song that helped make this fic happen. I gave you entertainment, I'd be thrilled if you gave them a listen. :) It's a great song.
> 
> Adore you, Mona. :) I hope the final chapter felt like a proper ending.
> 
> I'm so sad it's over! I found this so sweet to write, I want to keep writing DD/l Thorki. :( My first time interpreting “Daddy Kink”. How was it? 
> 
> Same handle as on [Tumblr.](http://radiatorfromspace.tumblr.com)
> 
> [Buy Me a Coffee](https://ko-fi.com/A70850KZ) if you want to support all the time and effort I put into entertaining you. :)

**Author's Note:**

> radiatorfromspace.tumblr.com
> 
>  _D/s_ – Domination/submission—some people get off on power exchange. Dominant (power-holder, in-control person) / submissive (voluntarily gifts their power to the Dom for the scene). Involves _TPE_ (total power exchange; the Dom has all, the sub has none except their safeword). Daddy Dom/little dynamics typically have a less severe power imbalance, but one you'd expect between caretakers and their charges.
> 
>  _Daddy Dom/little (boy/girl; abbreviated as DD/l)_ – a type of D/s dynamic that is _typically_ gentler and more affectionate than the stereotypical image of the way Dominants and submissives interact (discard your mental image of the “whips-and-chains Dom” degrading and humiliating his sub, although bondage, degradation, and humiliation can all certainly be found in DD/l if both people enjoy it). 
> 
> _Daddy (Dom)_ – a type of Dominant whose “style” typically but not necessarily focuses on caretaking, nurturing, emotional support, guidance, and protection of his little, plus being the dominant participant in DD/l. The Daddy plays "Daddy" ( ** _not_** "father") to his little.
> 
>  _Littles and Baby boys/baby girls_ – they are not the same thing. Baby boys/girls employ age play—age play is playing pretend (role playing) they are a younger age. By contrast, “littles” are _adults_ who express their still-present inner-child self in their relationship w/ their Daddy Dom/Mommy Domme. Both littles and baby boys/girls employ some degree of age play, but for baby boys/girls it is purely role play. [But Thor and Loki still refer to Loki as “babyboy/baby/little/etc” which might be confusing.]
> 
>  
> 
> I had to define this because the plot is about Loki coming to accept the fact that he is a “little” after previously identifying simply as having age play and D/s kinks.
> 
>  
> 
>  _Age Play_ – a form of **role playing** in which one acts and/or treats another as if they are an age that is different from their chronological one. Age play is not necessarily sexual (like if Daddy!Thor reads Loki a bedtime story, etc). An _age player_ (someone who gets off on scenes involving age play) is **not** the same as a _“little”._
> 
>  _Safeword_ – a pre-negotiated code word used to communicate distress and withdrawal of consent. Useful when “no” and “stop” are authentic aspects of role play.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [milk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6544621) by [sexualthorientation (sexyscholar)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexyscholar/pseuds/sexualthorientation)




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